


A Twisted Fairytale

by MisstressSezza



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF Loki, BAMF Natasha, Clint Is a Dick, F/M, I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up To No Good, Jötunn Loki, Loki Does What He Wants, Loki Feels, Loki Needs a Hug, Loki is never up to any good, Manipulative Loki, Manipulative Natasha, Natasha Feels, Oh god, Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Smutty, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Torture, Violence, Warning: Loki, but he means well, pink hair dye
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-02-04 21:34:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 32
Words: 102,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1793899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisstressSezza/pseuds/MisstressSezza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki is not your average Prince, and Natasha is certainly no Princess, so their fairytale is a little...twisted. And with a new threat looming on the horizon, can Natasha thaw Loki's frozen heart and convince him to aid the Avengers? Or is she merely falling right into Loki's ploy? And why the hell does Tony have pink hair dye in the first place?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Right, so this will be my first multi-chaptered fanfic, I have already written the majority of the story and so I will be updating weekly (Cause there's nothing that annoys me more than when an awesome story doesn't get updated in forever). So I'd love everyone to review, tell me what you think or if you have suggestions or questions, even constructive criticism is helpful. Anyway, enough from me, on with the show!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers, Marvel, any of the character, blah, blah, blah…
> 
> WARNINGS: This story WILL contain – smut (lots of smut), language, violence, non-con situations, mentions of torture, and all that other angsty goodness
> 
> :)

It all started with the dreams... the feel of his cool skin pressed against hers, smooth lips and hot tongue ravishing her mouth, chest, stomach. He rolls in her, around her, everywhere. Feverent whispers caress her ears and the friction between their bodies create an electricity that she could never have imagined. And all too soon her burning orgasm rips her violently from that tantalising dream, leaving her with only wet panties and the lingering burn of bright green eyes and the scream of his name on her lips.

Natasha smooths her hand over her frazzled hair and flops back down onto the pillow. She closes her eyes to try and regain control of her erratic breathing, but green eyes smirk down at her from the darkness, so she presses the palms of her hands against her eyelids until that burning green is replaced by flickering white spots.

Natasha slides out from under the covers and fumbles down the corridor in the dark to the bathroom. She flings her wet panties into the hamper with a look of disgust and leans heavily on the sink, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Taking deep, calming breaths and gazing into her own blue eyes, she mentally resurrects the walls around her mind.  
It had been months since Thor had taken his brother, bound and muzzled like a rabid dog, back to God-knows-where, and yet that bastard Loki was still managing to somehow play mind tricks on her. These dreams were his doing, she was sure of it, no way would her mind ever think up something as sick and twisted as this.

Her sex life was nothing to get excited about, but she liked it that way. No awkward dates or complicated sex etiquettes, sometimes she'd have a fling with Clint if she felt like it, but she knew there was no way she could ever love him in the way that he loved her. Sure, she cared for him and they made a great team, but she was positive that love could no longer exist for her... she was too dark and twisted a creature for love.

"Love is for children..."

The mantra from her Red Room days echoed in her mind.

She turned on the tap and splashed the cold water onto her face, trying to clear her mind of the dirty dreams. She grabbed a towel and dried her face, glancing back up in the mirror she saw a flash of emerald green eyes and unruly black hair reflected behind her. She spun around with a gasp but there was no one there. She peered more closely into the darkness, waiting for a face to appear again...

'BRIIING!' The sudden loud noise made Natasha jump. She mentally berated herself when she realised it was her phone ringing.

"Hey Nat, just got back from Latveria, did I wake you?"

"Nah, I was already up." Natasha replied as she began dressing herself one-handed.

"Yeah, Doom's been acting up again. Something about a chemical bomb…" Clint told her as she made her way to her living room and curled up on the couch. She knew she wouldn't be getting back to sleep tonight so she may as well enjoy the chance to catch up with her partner and closest friend.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

In this one she was running from him. The tranquillity of the evergreen forest with its sun-dappled leaves and choir of birds was harshly disturbed by her bare footfalls and heavy panting. Though she hadn't seen him yet, she somehow knew exactly who she was running from.

She didn't know why, but she had on some ridiculously girly, white frilly dress. That was proof to her that he was controlling her dreams, as she would never in her right mind wear something as, as...cutesy as this.

As Natasha tore through the forest, the moss-covered floor abruptly gave way beneath her feet and suddenly she was falling, falling, the forest becoming a blur of green and gold above her head before she found herself ungraciously deposited on a wooden floor. Natasha groaned and rolled onto her hands and knees.

This may be a dream but apparently she could still feel pain.

She took in her surroundings as she slowly rose to her feet. She seemed to be in a great library, though it was nothing like any library she had seen before. The floors and walls were made of a dark wood but the ceiling must have been at least twelve feet above her head and shone like gold. She could barely make out the figures painted on the bright surface – a mural of some kind.

But the most peculiar thing about the enormous library was that there were no shelves, instead the books seemed to just float. Thousands of books were lined neatly as if the shelves were invisible, but when Natasha curiously reached out a hand it merely passed between one book and the next – there was nothing there.

Inquisitively, Natasha walked down the aisles and aisles of books, all thoughts of her pursuer suddenly gone. She finally came to an opening in the books and found what was obviously a reading area. Two Camelbacked sofas and a chaise lounge surrounded a highly ornamental ebony table on a hand-woven silk rug. All the seats looked like they came right out of an 18th century castle, upholstered in fine red velvet with a dark mahogany finish and golden pillows with little tassels on the corners. Two floor-to-ceiling windows stood behind the sitting area, but the outside light was muted by the fine semi-permeable curtains that billowed gracefully in the gentle breeze. All in all it gave off a largely royal effect.

Natasha wandered over to the chaise lounge and gingerly fingered the intricately carved dark wood of its arm when, without warning, she found herself being flung over the arm and facedown into the lush lounge.

She tried to lift herself up only to find a tight grip on the back of her neck holding her down. She kicked out with her left leg only to have that held fast too. Suddenly she was being hoisted up by her ankle and realised horrifyingly that the flimsy white dress was literally the only thing she was wearing...

"My, my, my." Loki purred as Natasha grabbed at her hem and attempted miserably to cover herself. She tried to kick with her other leg but failed to connect, and she couldn't use her hands without letting go of her dress and exposing herself, so instead she resorted to 'the Death Stare'. But instead of its usual effect, all the Stare got was a chuckle.  
"Oh, I do love the feisty ones." He said with a predatory grin.

Gripping her ankle, he flung her into the sofa, sending it toppling backwards to the floor with a crack. In an instant he was on top of her again. He grabbed a fistful of her dress and with one swift motion he tore the fabric from her body. Naked and vulnerable now, she threw a punch that connected with his jaw but he seized both her wrists and pinned them above her head.

She bucked and struggled but her body was trapped beneath his. Loki bent his head and licked a long line from her clavicle to behind her ear, involuntarily she shivered and arched her neck. He chuckled darkly in her ear, a sound that made her fingers tingle and heat pool in her belly.

"Don't struggle," he all but growled, "you know as much as I do that you want this. You can't hide anything from me."  
She stopped struggling, captivated by his green eyes that danced with mischief and lust. Unexpectedly his lips crashed upon hers, bruising and passionate, his tongue parted her lips and delved into her mouth, eliciting a moan from her. Her mind was screaming to fight him but for some reason her body wouldn't respond.

He pulled away from her and fixed her with a look so lustful that she thought it would burn a hole right through her. She gasped as he kissed his way down her chest, between her breasts. He let go of her wrists and used his newly freed hands to squeeze her breasts.

As his kisses burned a red hot trail down her stomach, her mind became blank, all thoughts of fighting vanished, along with her sense of wrong and right apparently, because she knew this was wrong but that didn't stop it from feeling so, very, right...

His name fell from her lips as his tongue slipped between her legs. She could feel him smirk against her thigh as his tongue caused her to moan out loud, but she didn't care, just as long as he didn't stop.

She could feel the heat and pressure building like fire in her belly, and she rolled her hips up into him, desperate to feel more of his devilish tongue. Her hands had lain forgotten above her head until she thought to wrap them in his hair, using them to pull his mouth closer.

"Loki, wait..." she gasped. She could feel her climax building but she didn't want this to end, she wanted to experience more of him. But Loki didn't stop, didn't even slow down and all too soon she felt herself falling over the edge, followed by her own voice groaning Loki's name and those green eyes dancing with pleasure...

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Natasha opened her eyes to find herself back in her own room. She laid there for a moment, trying to rid her mind of yet another disturbing dream. Her body was heavy with the light sheen of sweat that covered it.

As she moved to find a cooler spot, she felt the sticky wetness between her legs. The sexual tension and the loss of control over her own body infuriated her, and Natasha let the anger build up until she had to jam a pillow over her head and scream in frustration like an angsty teenager. She closed her eyes and waited for her heart rate to slow, when there was a sudden crackling sound. She flung the pillow across the room and tore out of bed and into a fighting stance, only to come face to face with the real-life Loki.

"Good evening, Miss Romanov."

He spread his arms wide in greeting and his grin matched. Natasha stood stunned for a moment before coming to her senses and lunging for the gun on her bedside table, only to find it wasn't there. "Must we really resort to violence?"  
She turned back to Loki to find her Glock 26 hovering above his palm, and with one flick of his wrist it disappeared.

Natasha eyed him cautiously, "What do you want?" She growled.

His grin widened and he chuckled in the same way he had in those haunting dreams. "Oh Natasha, I couldn't let you have all the fun by yourself."

She snarled at him, he could see the hatred and loathing behind her eyes. "Bastard." She muttered before aiming a swift roundhouse kick at his head. He evades it easily and laughs, "Violence it is then."

Loki blocks her incoming punches easily, it enrages her the way he so calmly deflects her attacks, so she throws everything at him. Right hook, back fist, knee to the ribs, side kick to the solar plexus. That last one winded him, so she continued her flurry of attacks until finally one of her punches landed on his perfect cheekbone.

The instantaneous change in Loki's expression was frightening. His cocky smirk slid off his face like a fat raindrop down a windowpane and his once mischievous green eyes narrowed. Before Natasha could even drop back into a defensive stance, Loki had grabbed her by the throat and thrown her across the room like a rag doll.

She hit the wall with a loud thud and fell to her hands and knees.

He strode across the room before she could get to her feet and lifted her up by the collar of her nightshirt. "Is that any way to treat a guest?" He said the words calmly but his eyes burned with fire.

He dropped her suddenly, sending her crashing backward into the footboard of her bed. Seething with rage, Natasha spun on her back and kicked off the footboard, flinging herself along the floorboards between Loki's legs and taking them out as she passed.

She turned quickly on one knee and aimed a kick at Loki's head as he stumbled. She turned and sprinted down the hallway, heading for the kitchen and her other gun.

With Loki right behind her, Natasha grabbed a knife from the block on the kitchen bench and flung it at him, giving her enough time to rip open the kitchen drawer and reach her gun. But Loki was quick, knocking the Walther PPK/S out of her hands and sending it skidding across the floor and into the lounge room.

Kicking him in the chest, Natasha made a dash for the weapon but Loki caught her and threw her into her faded blue couch. He was on top of her in a heartbeat, a knee in her back and a large, pale hand grasping her wrists. Her silk nightgown rode up around her waist as she squirmed and struggled, trying to buck him off.

Suddenly the slap of skin on skin caused her bottom to radiate with pain as Loki's hand connected with it. She cried out but stilled.

She felt his weight shift and his warm breath was suddenly in her ear. "This is much better don't you think?" He purred, sending a shiver down her spine that she didn't entirely think was fear.

"You beneath me, half naked and..." he slipped one long finger between her legs, "dripping." He breathed, causing a small moan to escape her lips.

Disgusted with herself, she bit down on her lip. She had withstood hours of torture without making a single sound, she could handle his games. But torture didn't cause her body to tingle all over, nor give her the urge to arch in to his touch. His lips ghosted her ear and when his tongue flicked out and licked a long line from her ear down her neck, she had to bite her lip harder to keep from moaning again.

"Tell me little spider, does this remind you of your wicked dreams?" Loki's fingers trailed circles on her inner thigh.  
"I don't know what you're talking about." She ground out between gritted teeth.

"Well then, maybe this will jog your memory." And with his free hand he grabbed the back of her shirt and with one violent tug he ripped it from her body.

He yanked her wrists backwards so she was forced onto her knees. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulled her flush against his chest so he could lean forward and whisper in her ear, "Do not fight me, little spider. We both know you want this."

His lips ghosted over her neck and shoulder while his hand wandered up from her hip to grasp her breast hard, pinching her nipple and causing her to gasp in pain and pleasure.

"To escape your sins, you bathe yourself in more sin. You lie and kill in the service of liars and killers." As he spoke, his fingers dipped down into her panties and found their way inside her. She bit her lip so hard to keep from moaning that she could taste blood. "You claim to be redeeming yourself through death and destruction, but we both know it's purely because you enjoy the death and the destruction!" His fingers were long and lightning fast, reaching all the spots that would normally make her scream.

She let her head drop back onto his shoulder, panting heavily, and squeezed her eyes shut, still refusing to make a sound.

"You think yourself above me, when in reality you wish you were by my side! Little spider, you suffer the worst kind of deformity – a warrior with a conscience."

And with that final jab, Loki spun her around and shoved her forwards to land against the back of the couch. A tingling sensation encircled her wrists and when she tried to pull away, she found that her wrists had been magically chained to the couch.

Natasha struggled against her invisible shackles, twisting and pulling, and looked over her shoulder to find that Loki was suddenly as naked as she was.

Unwittingly her eyes travelled downwards, "Svyatoye der'mo" she breathed, her eyes widening. For the first time tonight Natasha felt a jolt of pure fear.

The sound of Loki's laughter forced her to tear her eyes away and bring them up to meet his. He pressed his body against hers and the feeling of his bare skin was electric, it made Natasha's hairs stand on end. His breath was hot on the back of her neck, "I will make you never want another."

His honey-coated words and the feeling of him finally, finally entering her proved more than all the torture resistance training in the world and Natasha let out a loud moan. That only made Loki thrust into her harder and soon he was steadily riding her into the couch, one hand tangled in her hair and the other squeezing and pinching her breast.

Natasha struggled against her restraints at first but with each increasingly powerful thrust, she found it was all she could do to hold on to the couch for dear life. The musky scent of sex and Loki suffocated her and his fingers blazed a trail of fire wherever they roamed.

She lost all sense of thought and time, her mind was numb and all she could feel were the waves of pleasure pushing her closer and closer to the edge. She could hear Loki grunting and her own moans, though the blood rushing in her ear made it sound like they were underwater.

When her climax came, Natasha didn't even realise she was screaming Loki's name, her orgasm so intense it blinded and deafened her. Pleasure shot through her, coursing through her body and down to every extremity, making her tingle all over.

As Natasha came down from her high, she felt a warm dripping sensation down the back of her thigh and realised that Loki had pulled out. She tried to get her breath back and as she turned to face him, she realised that her wrists were no longer magically bound.

She looked up at him; he was fully clothed once again and did not look at all dishevelled as she must look.  
Still breathing heavily she caught his eye. The green seas betraying lust and smugness as he watched her lay naked and spent on the couch while he stood calm and controlled above her. He smirked, turning on his heel he began to walk away.

"Loki" she called out, and he stopped.

"Give me back my gun." He turned abruptly with a grin on his face and, from nowhere, flung her Glock 26 towards her. She snatched it from the air with both hands and aimed it at him, but in a swirl of green he was gone.

She held her position, wary that he might pop up somewhere else, but after a few moments she slowly lowered her arms. She glanced around the room and, with a sigh, she flopped back into the couch, she let her arm fall and heard the gun clatter to the floor.

She closed her eyes.

She could have sworn she saw him wink.


	2. The Tower

She found herself at the gym, long after the mischievous demi-god had left her. She had already contacted Director Fury and, as expected, her new mission was to continue liaisons with Loki as long as safely possible and gather as much information from him as she could.

The Director also agreed with her wishes to keep her little side mission from the other Avengers for the time being.

Her hands and feet worked over the punching bag, her body automatically going through the motions that had been ingrained into her as a child, allowing her mind to wander free.

She wasn't exactly happy about her new assignment but orders were orders. Natasha felt anger bubble to the surface as she pounded the bag, both furious and disgusted that she allowed Loki to compromise her thoughts like that.

She had to be stronger, better. He was their enemy, he was an evil, conniving, manipulative, murderer. He had killed people, civilians who had not deserved to die at the hands of Loki.

The same hands that had just moments ago caused her body to writhe in pleasure despite herself.

Her disgust fuelled her rage and strength. It felt good to release her anger, relishing the physical exertion and embracing the feel of the muscles in her body contracting and releasing in perfect unison, dealing blow after blow to the defenceless punching bag.

She hated Loki. Hated him with every fibre of her being and she would be glad to take him down.

And yet, despite all her hate and her rage, a deeply buried corner of her heart felt a strange affinity with him – they both had darkness in their souls, his slightly more twisted than hers, but it was this strange sentiment and her own morbid curiosity that drew the Black Widow irrevocably to the God of Evil.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

"Whoa, Nat, you look like shit." Clint told her with all the tact of a raging bull.

Natasha froze for a split second, terrified that somehow her best friend could tell just by looking at her what had happened last night. But no, he couldn't possibly know, she must just look more tired than usual.

Recovering her senses, Natasha just rolled her eyes at him as she made her way further into the SHIELD common room to pour herself a cup of much needed coffee. She heard a snort from over the back of the faded blue couch.

"Ladies and gentlemen – Clint Barton, Lady-killer." Tony Stark's head followed his sarcastic comment from behind the couch.

Natasha let a smirk cross her face before turning back to the small kitchenette.

"Seriously though Nat," Clint probed, "are you still having trouble sleeping?"

"I'm fine, Clint." She brushed him off and evaded his concerned look, turning instead to Tony.

"Stark." She greeted as she poured dark brown liquid into the least chipped mug she could find.

"Didn't pick you for one who'd willingly lounge around within grasp of where Fury or someone could actually put you to work."

Stark waved his hand at her dismissively, "As if Fury could actually make me work."

Natasha plopped herself down at the table next to Clint and spread the SHIELD files she had been carrying in front of her.

"He's waiting for his science buddy." Clint replied to her unanswered question.

Natasha's eyebrows shot up, "Bruce is flying in?"

Tony strolled over and leaned against the table, crossing his arms over the faint circular glow beneath his AC/DC shirt.

"Yeah, got a new science project I want his help with." Stark beamed and his eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. "See, I've been going over the data from when all that hoo-doo voo-doo magic stuff was going on during the New York fiasco, and the energy readings aren't as unpredictable as we thought."

The genius's hands danced about excitedly as he tried to explain his theory to the two assassins who had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.

"So if we could figure out an algorithm that could contradict the peaks in energy levels, then maybe I could build something that…" He trailed off suddenly and looked up at the agents with a look of horror replacing his excitement. "Oh wait – I don't think I was supposed to tell you guys…"

He scratched the back of his head sheepishly and grimaced. Clint just laughed out loud and Natasha fought the urge to facepalm. Stark shrugged it off, "Eh, I never was good at secrets."

"Well," Clint leaned back and balanced precariously on the hind legs of his chair, "all we need now is Cap and Thor and it'll be a regular old Avengers reunion."

Natasha drained the last of her coffee, "Well, I don't know about Thor, but Steve got back from LA this morning."

Clint raised a brow quizzically at her. "How do you know?"

"Because he finally figured out how to send a text message." She smirked, pulling out her phone and showing them Steve's message that informed her of his homecoming – it was all in caps.

Both Tony and Clint chuckled to themselves.

"Alright, it's decided then!" Stark clapped his hands together in glee, "Shawarma and drinks at mine? I think it's time you all got the grand tour of the new and improved Stark Tower. The top floor is amazing, I've decked out all your rooms, and there's now an indoor Jacuzzi and sauna."

Natasha's eyebrows were now somewhere in her hairline. "Wait, wait. Back up, we have our own rooms?" She questioned, her voice an octave or two higher than normal.

"Well, yeah," Stark frowned at her as if to say 'duh', "all ass-kicking superheros need an awesome hideout. Batman had the Batcave, Superman had the Fortress of Solitude, Spiderman had… well I have no idea, but you get the point."

Natasha stared incredulously at Stark for a moment before turning to Clint, begging him to back her up.

Instead, Clint looked awestruck. "Hey man, you had me at Jacuzzi." He and Stark high-fived.

"Right then, Thursday night! You two better be there. I'll go tell the others!" The billionaire rubbed his hands together gleefully and strode purposefully from the room before Natasha could protest.

Clint beamed at her and Natasha groaned. "Oh god."

Clint snorted at her. "You didn't seem to mind so much the last "family reunion" we had." He pointed out as she gathered her completed paperwork in her arms.

"Hey, alcohol makes everything better, even shawarma." She smirked. "I'm dropping these off to Agent Hill," she waved the papers in her hand, "Catch you 'round, Clint."

"Hey, wait." Clint called to her as she pushed open the door. His eyes searched hers, trying to pull the truth from her soul with his gaze, though not even Clint could read her when she didn't want to be read.

"You sure you're okay, Nat?" His eyes begged the truth from her, and it pained her that she could not give it to him.

She flashed him a bright smile, "I'm fine Clint. Trust me." He looked like he was about to say more, but a familiar face saved her. She tilted her head in greeting to the fellow agent, and used his appearance as a diversion for her escape.

As she left the room, she heard Clint become successfully distracted. "Hey, you're back! How was Tahiti?"

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

"Okay. So the bottom few floors are business – Pepper made me put them in there." Tony rolled his eyes.

They were riding up the elevator of the newly renovated Stark Tower, Tony pointing out what was on each floor as they passed. The elevator doors were made of reinforced glass so as they came up to each level they could see out onto the floor.

The back wall of the elevator was mirrored and, of all things, a mini chandelier lit the lift.

Natasha was tempted to roll her eyes at the gaudiness of it all.

"Tenth floor is the conference room," Stark continued, and Natasha caught a glimpse of a long, oval table of polished wood with a large flat-screen at one end of the room.

"Oh, and the basement has interrogation rooms and holding cells and whatnot, y'know, for the next evil supervillian; plus, I borrowed a quinjet from Fury so that's down there too."

Steve raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Fury just let you have a quinjet?" Tony slung an arm around Steve's shoulders, must to his discomfort.

"Don't worry Spangles, I gave it a paint job, he won't even know the difference!" Tony whispered conspiratorially. Steve just shook his head and smiled exasperatedly.

"Then, we've got ten floors of R & D labs, just like I promised Bruce. I'll show you all that stuff later. Ah, here we go."

The elevator doors opened with a ping and they filed out, Tony leading the way.

"That there," Stark pointed to a large black automatic door that was inset in a wooden frame, "is my own personal home cinema. Totally soundproof, 3D capable, and JARVIS will play anything you want."

Clint let out a low whistle, "Anything? Oh Steve, I am so making you watch Avatar." Steve looked puzzled but decided it would be best not to ask.

"Nat and Barton, you guys will love this one." Tony led them to the next set of doors which slid open for him. "The firing range and weaponry storage. And weapon you can think of plus a state-of-the-art targeting system with thirty levels ranging from beginner to impossible. Though, I kinda think JARVIS only put the last one in for a laugh."

Tony frowned as he picked up the control pad.

Natasha smirked to herself, she was so trying out impossible the first chance she got.

"Nice." Clint nodded in appreciation. "Yeah, and check this out."

Stark pressed a button on the control pad and a number of virtual dummies popped up in the arena, big red targets painted on their chests. Stark pressed a few more buttons and the dummies were replaced with holograms of Loki.

The inky hair and green eyes sneered down at her, and instinctively Natasha stiffened.

Clint laughed, "Finally, I can put that arrow through his eye. What buttons did you press?"

He moved over to Stark as Tony showed him how to use the controls. Natasha stared at the holograms.

She imagined one of Clint's arrows sticking out of one of those emerald orbs, blood splattered around the empty socket. She couldn't decide if that would make her happy or not.

Stark showed them through the kitchen and gym, and the indoor pool, Jacuzzi and sauna. For some reason, the boys were ridiculously keen to try the latter, though Natasha didn't see how sitting in a room full of man sweat and steam would be exciting.

The next floor was Tony's bar and lounge and the landing pad, the floors following that were their assigned rooms.

Their rooms were of a similar layout; a king sized bed faced a wall with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city, comfy lounge chairs and sofas adorned the area and each room had its own ensuite with a deep sunken bath that Natasha was dying to sink into with a nice glass of red.

Each room was themed, unfortunately with Tony's ironic sense of humour, to its owner.

Bruce's room had a green and white colour scheme, as Stark told a slightly perturbed Bruce that he thought it would be calming. A tiny Zen garden sat in the corner of the room, Bruce pointed to it.

"I like that."

"Yeah, that was Pepper's idea. This was my design input."

He strode into the room and plucked a pair of giant green fists off the wall and put them on. "Check this out." He grinned and knocked the fists together. They emitted an electronic roar, followed by a tinny voice that growled, 'HULK SMASH!'

"That's cute." Banner smirked as Tony and Clint both doubled over in laughter.

Steve's room was themed in red, white and blue. His bedspread was striped in each colour and his pillowcases were American flags. 1940's style posters adorned the walls and an old record player sat in the corner, the shelf above it housing dozens of old records.

They peeked into Thor's room, which was decorated in reds and golds with a fake stone fireplace drawing attention to the centre of the room.

Clint's room was a little more subtle but included mostly maroon in its colour scheme. Decorative bows hung on the walls and a small display cabinet held the various designs of arrowheads through the ages.

Natasha was a little anxious to see her room, but was pleasantly surprised to find that it was not as gaudy as she had been imagining.

The king bed had deep red sheets and was made of a dark wood with matching bedside tables. A sturdy desk filled with solvent, cleaning rods and jags – everything she would need to keep her guns clean – sat against the far wall.

Next to the cherry-wood dresser stood a dark-painted shoji screen, its paper decorated with golden lines that depicted onion-shaped domes and pointy towers which she quickly recognised as the Moscow skyline.

"It's not quite as exciting, but Pepper wouldn't let me hang a giant cobweb in the corner." Tony pouted, and Natasha silently thanked Pepper.

Tony's room was the ultimate bachelor pad. Complete with a bar and a baby grand piano, floating stairs led to a loft where a chandelier of delicate crystals hung above the biggest bed Natasha had ever seen.

However, Stark was most excited to show them the roof.

"Pepper said I didn't have a romantic bone in my body. Needless to say, I proved her wrong." Stark boasted with a wink.

The elevator opened up to a pathway of white pebbles which crunched underfoot. Various trees and hedges lined the walls, giving the place privacy. The fragrance of different flowers invaded Natasha's senses and their bright splashes of colour lit up the roof.

The path curled around to reveal a perfectly manicured grass area which opened up to a deck that overlooked the city, decorated with sunken lounge areas and a plethora of cushy pillows.

What was most impressive, however, was the miniature waterfall that trickled from the tip of Stark Tower and collected in a crystal clear pool in the centre of the roof and connected to a tiny river which flowed across and surrounded the grassy lawn. The rocks that lined the banks were smooth and seemed to sparkle slightly, and Natasha wondered where on earth they had come from.

"Stark," she said carefully, "I'm actually impressed."

Tony clutched at his chest and feigned as if he was having a heart attack. She rolled her eyes and she heard the others snicker behind her.

She normally made a point never to compliment Stark as his head was already inflated enough, but this was impressive. Natasha mused that, even if she didn't move in to Stark Tower, she would visit purely to sit on this rooftop.

"Okay guys, shawarma or pizza? Your call." The others headed back towards the elevator, arguing over food preferences. Natasha hesitated for a moment, trying to take in as much of the small slice of paradise as she could, before following them down.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

In a dark, dank prison cell on Asgard, Loki the God of Lies had a rather unwelcome visitor.

"Did you think I would not make good on my promise, little prince?" Thanos' presence permeated the room, swathed in haze and darkness. Even though it was not his true body that was present, he still managed to leech the air with the stench of fear and death.

"Your experiences of my wrath before your miserable, failed invasion attempt were mere warnings in comparison to punishments I have in store for you now."

The mottled, purple face grinned, anticipating sadism. And though Loki did not betray a hint of it, inside he was shaking at the reminded of the pain, the invasion, the feeling of being unravelled, unmade, the pain, the pain, the pain...

Instead, Loki smirked as if none of those horrors passed unbidden through his mind.

"Well that seems rather excessive, especially when I have a much better plan which I think you will want to hear." He drawled, the picture of smug confidence.

Thanos sneered, "King of Liars, do not assume you can talk your way out. I promised that you would long for something as sweet as pain for your failure, your desperate schemes hold no interest for me."

And here Loki grinned, he knew he had him.

"Ah, but I do believe they will. For my schemes involve you in possession of a powerful weapon which Asgard coverts most dearly, a weapon which will surely please your Lady in the sheer volume of death and destruction it can achieve. This is how you will achieve your goal, this is how you will woo Death, and this is how you will decimate all Nine Realms."

Loki held Thanos' gaze, willing him to be pulled into his web. He was silent for a long time and Loki's heart thudded painfully, wondering if he had come across too strong, if he had pushed too hard too fast, if the War Titan could see right through him and would cart him off to make good on his promise.

"I'm listening." Thanos finally obliged, and Loki couldn't help the dark smirk that split his face.


	3. The Subjugation

 

* * *

_You let me violate you_   
_You let me desecrate you_   
_You let me penetrate you_   
_You let me complicate you_

_~ "Closer", Nine Inch Nails_

* * *

The next time he came to her, she tried to understand why.

"Why are you doing this? Why me?" She asked with a strained voice.

His strong, pale fingers were clasped around the base of her throat, not choking her, but just tight enough to cause pressure on her larynx. She felt his breath tickle the back of her neck as he pinned her to the bedroom wall with his hard body.

"Why not?" He answered, and she could practically feel his smirk.

"We all were made to kneel for something."

It was barely a whisper and Natasha felt he was talking more to himself than to her. His breath caressed her skin as nimble fingers unzipped the little black dress she was wearing and slipped it over her hips so that it pooled at her feet.

She had just returned from a surveillance mission of a wealthy drug dealer who owned a series of clubs to find the Asgardian Prince waiting for her in her apartment.

"That's not what I'm asking." She gasped as his teeth sunk into her shoulder. "I'm asking why _you_ want _me_."

She felt him tense behind her and she wondered if her words had somehow made him angry. Suddenly, he grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around to face him. His eyebrows furrowed over the deep emerald pools as his gazed scorched her.

"Do not feign naivety with me, little spider, you know as well as I do that you are a beautiful woman."

She returned his stare defiantly.

"But a mortal woman."

She retorted with a frown, crossing her arms over her chest. He stared at her a few moments longer, his expression unreadable, before letting go of her shoulders and stepping back with a smirk.

"Beauty is beauty, no matter which realm it hails from."

He looked her up and down like a predator eyes its prey. Natasha merely raised an eyebrow at him.

"Flattery won't get you anywhere."

Infamous smirk still in place, Loki waved his hand through the air and Natasha's bra disappeared from under her still crossed arms. She gasped and covered her breasts quickly with her hands, scowling at the mischievous god.

"On the contrary my dear," he purred, stalking towards her once more, "flattery will get you _everywhere_."

He grasped her wrists and pulled her hands away roughly, Natasha tried and failed to pull out of his iron grip.

"Why come here? Why risk escape from your prison to return to the place that defeated you?" She held his gaze, stone faced.

"I am no fool, Miss Romanov, no one will know of these visits, the guards are too daft to even realise that I am not truly inside my cell." He pushed her back against the wall.

"And if I told Thor you're running around Earth while he's not looking?"

He smirked, gripping both her wrists in one hand and yanking them up above her head.

"Try it." He hissed.

Restrained and frustrated, Natasha glared at the Prince icily, and the words were out of her mouth before she even realised.

"I hate you."

Loki blinked slowly at her once before breaking out in a wide grin. He gave a dark chuckle that sent shivers down her spine before pulling her sharply towards him, crushing her against his lean, hard body. She felt a familiar tingling sensation that she recognised as her wrists being magically bound together above her, and she felt Loki's cool breath on her neck as he bent down low to whisper darkly in her ear.

"You should."

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

It was a combination of things that led to the subjugation of Natasha Romanov. Over the next few weeks, he came to her several more times, stepping through her mirror with a crackle of energy. Each time he took her roughly, controlling her every moan and whimper, every orgasm.

She would never admit it, but he was right in a way, she was made to be ruled, and she loved being ruled by him. In a strange way, when he took control, it was the only time she was ever truly free.

No assassinations, no missions. No murdering, lying or deception.

Just allowing herself to revel in the experience of _feeling_ for a change, even if the feeling was only lust.

She loves it. Loves the way he makes her body ache all over and the way he ties her wrists and teases her until she's almost insane with longing. In all her dark years of life, no man has ever made her feel so alive. She had always been so cold, detached from sentiment, from feeling – from everything. But he ignites her spark.

The other thing was that he was just so _damaged_.

It was something she thought no one but her would notice, or maybe they knew but the severity of his crimes outweighed any pity.

He wore his mask of indifference as comfortably as she did, but every now and then he would slip up, and Natasha would catch the briefest of glimpses of the real Loki – the fleeting flashes of pain or betrayal or anger in his eyes; the way he tied her hands, as if afraid she might cut herself on the broken shards of him; or the way he held her tightly enough to bruise as he screwed her into the mattress, as though he could relieve his anguish if he could just fuck her hard enough.

And Natasha took all of the broken god's rage and pain, she allowed him to lose himself in her, because if she could bring an ounce of redemption to Loki, the twisted God of Lies, Evil and Chaos, well then that would be a damned decent amount of red wiped from her ledger.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

"Hey Clint, I'm gonna take a shower, you good to debrief Fury?" Natasha called over her shoulder in the general direction of her partner.

"Yeah, sure." Clint muttered distractedly, she could hear him rummaging in the kitchen.

"Oi Nat, you got any food in this place? I'm starved!"

They had just returned from another mission and had stopped off at her apartment as it was closer to the airport than Stark Tower. After much persuading from Tony, all the Avengers now lived there except for her.

Bruce had been the first to move in, he had stayed with Stark while he was in New York and then just never went home – the two geniuses practically lived in Tony's lab anyway.

Steve was next; SHIELD had issued him an apartment when they'd recovered him from the ice. However, he'd never felt at home there and, with all the people he once knew now dead, the Avengers were the closest thing to friends or family he had, it made sense for him to move in.

Clint had resisted for a while, coveting his privacy almost as much as Natasha, but eventually the Jacuzzi and his own personal archery range won him over.

Natasha stayed there often but she kept her own apartment, claiming she needed downtime. Plus, she never knew when a certain arrogant god would show up.

"There's a takeout menu stuck to the fridge, order something." She instructed Clint as she stepped into her tiled bathroom and began to strip.

She entered the shower and closed her eyes in bliss as the steaming jets washed the tension from her muscles and the blood and dirt of today's mission from her body. Very carefully, she began to wash the gash on her arm, pouring water over it and watching as the dried blood liquefied once again and swirled down the drain.

Suddenly, the water turned freezing, and she jumped back with a gasp, stepping out of the icy stream but straight into a warm, hard body. She filled her lungs to cry out but a hand clamped down over her mouth.

Another arm encircled her waist, drawing her body back against his. The familiar woody scent mixed with the crisp smell of a coming thunderstorm enveloped her, a scent that was purely Loki.

She whirled around in his arms, forcing him to uncover her mouth.

"What do you think you're doing?" She hissed at him, "Clint is right in the other room!"

His green eyes glinted with mischief and the wolfish smile that crept along his face made her heart stutter.

"I know, all the more exciting don't you think?" He purred as he pushed her gently back against the cold tiles.

Tangling his hands in her damp hair, he drew her face to his and she lost herself in his emerald eyes. He was so close she could feel his cool breath on her cheek. He leaned in and her eyes fluttered closed as she waited for the crash of his lips on hers.

Instead, he kissed her neck. The strange surge of disappointment she felt was soon forgotten though, as he sucked on her pulse point and allowed his hands to roam over her body.

As he kissed her chest she eyed his perfectly carved body, suddenly filled with the urge to run her hands over every inch of it. She reached out, placing her hands on his chest and feeling the strong muscle go taut beneath her touch as he froze.

Slowly, her hands drifted down, her gaze dark with lust as her fingertips trailed over perfectly sculpted abs…

But her hands were pulled from his body, strong fingers encircling her wrists and pinning them above her head. Confused, she glanced at him.

"No, Natasha." He told her, and for once she couldn't read his face, the look in his eyes seemed almost…sad? But that made no sense.

"Loki," she started to ask, but it turned into a moan as Loki's fingers slipped down to her nether regions. With a dark chuckle he shushed her, nibbling at the base of her neck.

Natasha bit her lip as Loki drove her insane with his slow strokes; she was suddenly very aware of how thin her apartment walls were. Finally, when she had been just about ready to beg for it, Loki withdrew his hand and hooked it under her knee, drawing her right leg up over his shoulder.

He released her hands and one arm snaked around her waist to steady her while the other braced against the wall. She wrapped her arms around his neck for balance, taking advantage of this small allowance of contact and twirling her fingers around the silky tendrils of hair that hung at the nape of his neck.

He pushed into her, inch by inch, so slowly she wanted to grab him by the hips and ram him into her, but instead she dug her nails into his shoulders, urging him on.

Languidly, he pumped into her, the angle he had created made his strokes so deep that she clenched around him every time he pushed into her. It was slow and sensual and the most intimate they had ever been. Normally he pinned her hands so she couldn't touch, or took her from behind so she couldn't see, and yet here they were, arms wrapped around each other and connected at almost every point.

It scared her a little.

Being Loki's fuck buddy was bad enough, but being Loki's lover? It was unthinkable.

As if Loki had read her thoughts (and fuck, maybe he had), he began to speed up, grabbing her other leg he pinned her knee against the wall and releasing his own little groan as he rammed into her. He held her so tightly that she knew she'd have hand-shaped bruises in the morning, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

"Oh god, oh fuck." She whispered as he set a bruising pace.

He groaned erotically in her ear as she bit down on his shoulder to stop herself from crying out, as it was, a whimper still escaped into his skin. Natasha clung on to the Trickster for dear life as an incredible pressure began to build, her orgasm was so close she could practically feel it already.

He growled softly in her ear and she heard a crack, the wall tile beneath his hand crumbled in his grip and pieces of plaster tinkled to the floor, mixing with the water and flowing down the drain.

Wow, he really was holding back when he was with her.

There was a knock on the door, "Nat, you ok in there? Hurry up, the food will be here any sec."

Loki didn't even pause at the intrusion, merely kept fucking her into the wall and his recklessness combined with the thrill of almost being caught pushed Natasha over the edge. She was barely able to gasp out, "Be right there!" before she came so hard that Loki had to clamp his hand over her mouth once more to muffle the wail of pleasure that escaped her lips. She bit down on his hand instead and he groaned softly as she felt him spill his seed inside her.

He lowered her legs to the ground as they both struggled to catch their breath, and leant against the wall, caging his arms around her.

Her legs were like jelly and she grabbed a hold of his well-defined forearms to hold herself up. Tentatively, she let her head drop forward to rest on his chest, testing to see if he would push her away. Surprisingly he did not, and she breathed in deep the scent of sex, rust and Loki as she tried to stop her knees from wobbling all over the place.

After a moment, he drew her into the spray of the still-running shower and let the cool water cascade over their heated bodies, washing away the salt.

He took her arm and inspected it and she then realised that her cut had reopened during their, uh… _activities_ and was bleeding again. His fingertips ghosted over the gash and Natasha's eyes widened when it briefly glowed blue, the skin beneath his fingers repairing itself before her eyes.

She glanced up at him questioningly but he only grinned wryly as he backed away from her.

"You're welcome." He told her and bowed sarcastically with a grand flourish, then disappeared. Steam quickly filled the bathroom as the water turned scalding again.

Natasha traced her finger over the pink, puckered line on her arm.

She was determined to unravel the bag of cats that was the Trickster's mind. If it was at all possible that Loki was starting to develop feelings for her, any sort of sentiment at all really, then she could use that to her advantage.


	4. The Saviour

* * *

_You trick your lovers_   
_That you're wicked and divine_   
_You may be a sinner_   
_But your innocence is mine_

_~ "Undisclosed Desires", Muse_

* * *

The brightly lit ballroom glittered around her as her current dance partner spun her in a tight circle before dipping her low. The live band in the corner of the room struck a lively tempo and the many chandeliers that hung from the gilded dome ceiling reflected dew drops of glittering light all across the polished wood floor.

The song ended and was replaced by another, and another partner took up her hand. Heads turned as she twirled across the dance floor, she knew she was creating a scene – that was her intent – yet she couldn't help but take slight pleasure in the fact that she could dance freely and show off her true skills for a change.

As the song drew to a close, Natasha felt a strong hand on her shoulder and turned around to find a bodyguard that looked like he had walked straight out of a Men in Black movie, complete with the sunglasses and everything.

"Excuse me miss," his voice was deep and his face expressionless, "your host, Master Thade Trevelyan, politely requests you grace him with your company."

Natasha brought her fingertips daintily to her lips and giggled flirtatiously. She could have sworn she saw the guard roll his eyes as he turned and led her up the sweeping ivory staircase. She couldn't say she blamed him, the "blonde bimbo" act even made her cringe, despite its effectiveness.

She adjusted her wig and its golden locks carefully as she was showed to a private room that was draped in red velvets. Dark curtains provided privacy from straying eyes and a thick red carpet covered the floor. A glass coffee table, covered in guns and a few packets of something she was fairly certain was cocaine, was set before a black Italian lounge suite. In the centre of the couch sat Trevelyan in his expensive black tuxedo, his arms splayed over the back of the couch and his ankle crossed over one knee. More Men in Black guards stood behind him and two scantily clad girls – who were quite obviously high – ran their hands over each other at one end of the sofa.

Natasha almost rolled her eyes at the cliché.

Bad guys these days were getting so unoriginal. Nevertheless, she played her part well, seating herself teasingly close to the young (and, she had to admit, rather handsome) villain, batting her eyelashes and placing her hand suggestively on the inside of his knee.

The mission was fairly simple. Intel had told them that Thade Trevelyan, wealthy businessman turned black market merchant, had stolen the prototype of a newly-developed limitless power source for weapons from a group of Russian scientists, and intended to sell it to the highest bidder.

Her orders were simple – get close to Trevelyan, find out everything and anything he knows, and then dispose of the target. Clint's task was a little more difficult; his orders were to recover the power chip or, if necessary, destroy it.

Clint had not accompanied her to the party, instead he would wait for her to signal that she was in position with Trevelyan and then break in and steal the chip.

Trevelyan's mansion was built on the side of a cliff that overlooked the sea and, if all went to plan, she and Clint would meet up on the east side where the mansion opened up into the side of the mountain. From there, they would rappel down the cliff into a waiting speed boat, Trevelyan would be dead, and SHIELD would be in possession of the chip.

That is, if all went to plan.

Trevelyan fed her cocktails, trying (in vain) to get her drunk, and the tipsier she acted the more talkative and handsy he became.

' _Typical male'_ she thought as he led her by the hand down the hall and to his bedchambers. She unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off his shoulders, giggling as she kissed his collar bone. She pushed him down onto the bed and then stepped back to allow her dress to slide down her body.

"All that talk of guns and things turned me on." She purred, making sure to slur her words slightly.

She straddled his lap, pressing their almost naked bodies close and leant down to whisper in his ear, "I grew up in Budapest, you know, so I do love a little danger. Tell me more?"

Clint would be on the move now, 'Budapest' had been their code word ever since, well, Budapest.

Thade kissed her, hands trailing up her back to unhook her bra and murmuring secrets he shouldn't be about the power chip.

"Incredible power really…In the right group's hands…could do so much."

She clasped his hands in hers and ran them both down the length of her body, enticing a moan from him.

"Oh, and who has the right hands?" She gushed. His grin was predatory as he flipped them over on the soft bed, he rid himself of his pants and Natasha could now fully see the bulge straining against his underwear. He nestled himself between her legs and bent over to lave kisses over her breasts and stomach.

"Well, I'll sell it to the highest bidder but," his fingers tugged at the top of her panties but Natasha wouldn't let him until he told her what she wanted to know, "in my opinion, the group who has the means to do the most damage is the-"

Suddenly, he stilled, his eyes blown wide and his mouth opening and closing like a fish but no sound came out. Natasha froze, unsure of what went wrong.

He gasped for breath and blood sputtered from his mouth and across her chest, spraying her with deep crimson. She sprung forward, looking over his shoulder. What looked like an icicle had been shoved in his back, slicing between the ribs and piercing his lung.

Natasha knew of only one person who could do that.

Angrily, she kicked the now-corpse off her and it hit the floor with a sickening thud. She leapt to her feet in a fighting stance, scanning the room but seeing nothing.

"Alright, real clever." She told the empty room.

"Show yourself!"

She felt a presence behind her but before she could turn, a strong hand grasped her around the neck, holding her in place.

"Agent Romanov," he purred in her ear, another familiar, long-fingered hand trailed across her chest, collecting droplets of blood on pale fingertips and smearing it across her chest and down between the valley of her breasts.

"I must say, red suits you better than blonde." He chuckled.

She knocked his arm away and, breaking out of his grip, she cocked her arm back, spinning to land a punch-

But he wasn't there.

She heard him laugh to her right and turned to face him. He sat in one of the plush armchairs, looking as if he owned the place.

"Why did you do that?" She hissed, she was furious, her teeth clenched tightly together in rage.

"Your job was to kill the human, was it not? You should be thanking me, agent." He replied casually.

" _After_ " She grumbled, "I was supposed to kill him _after_ I got the information from him."

Loki merely shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

Natasha eyed him suspiciously, "What are you even doing here?" It dawned on her suddenly, "You're here for the chip, aren't you? That's your next big move?"

To her surprise, he laughed at her.

"No, I have no interest in your pathetic mortal technology." He dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand.

"Then why-" But she was cut off by a sharp knock at the door.

"Sir, we have an intruder! The chip has been stolen!" A guard's voice informed them from the other side of the door.

Natasha darted for her clothes and her handbag which held her pistol. Loki stood from his chair and faced the door, with a flick of his wrists, he conjured into his hands two perfectly carved daggers of ice.

"No." Natasha laid a hand on his arm, stopping him before he could throw. "You don't always have to kill." She told him, slipping the dress over her head and grabbing the gun from her bag. She left her bra but wiped the blood from her chest.

She opened the door a crack, revealing the two bodyguards. They looked confused at the sight of her but she beckoned them closer with a finger and put on her sweetest voice.

"Thade told me to tell you..."

As they leant closer she threw the door open wide and pistol-whipped them both, knocking them out cold. They fell like trees.

She ripped off her wig and grabbed the guards by the ankles and dragged them into the room. She turned to Loki, who was staring at her like she was some kind of strange but interesting animal at a zoo, and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you coming?"

He smirked and followed her down the hallway.

They made their way silently through the mansion, but just as they turned into the east wing, they were surrounded.

An ambush.

The silence was shattered as commands were yelled and guards rushed forward to grab them both, dragging them to opposite sides.

One of the goons demanded she tell them where the chip is and, when she didn't answer, he backhanded her across the face.

Loki caught her eye as she spat out blood, and he yelled across the circle, "Now can I kill them?"

Apparently he took the roll of her eyes as a yes because he broke free of their hold and, in a heartbeat, five of the guards around him fell to the ground, daggers in their chests. Natasha couldn't help the sly smile that crossed her face briefly before she herself got to work, snapping necks and putting bullets in hearts.

They made their way to the center and fought back to back, taking down guard after guard, until they were both left standing in the middle of a pile of bodies.

Explosions sounded further down the hallway.

"Clint." Natasha murmured, rushing towards where the blasts had come from.

The corridor opened up into what used to be a living room. The large chamber was cut out of the rock of the mountain and opened into a cave from which Natasha could see the grey sea.

Bits of furniture and rock were scattered everywhere, some guards had barricaded themselves behind a bar that no longer contained any glass, while other shots rang out from the entryways and corridors. The target of their fire was Barton, who had made his nest in the rafters that held up the cave's ceiling.

Natasha slipped two disc-charges from her belt. She glanced over her shoulder but Loki was nowhere to be seen.

' _Good_ ' she thought, _'if Clint had seen him…_ ' but she didn't have time to worry about that now.

She slid the discs across the ground to the men behind the bar, ducking around the corner to shield herself behind a table that had been blown in half. She heard the explosion, followed by the screams of men. From her barricade, she shot down any survivors.

More men poured in from the hall that she had just come from, they saw her and made to grab her, but an exploding arrow from Clint scattered them.

She rolled across the field, trying to get closer to the Hawk's nest, diving behind an upturned couch. A group of men were trying to climb their way up to Clint; Barton put an arrow through two of their chests and Natasha took out the rest.

She sent another exploding disc into the group of guards shooting from the entryway, and Clint felled those who stumbled away from the blast and into his line of sight.

A terrifying rumble made them pause. One of the support beams had caught fire from an explosion and was beginning to give way.

"Clint, time to go!" She yelled and Clint made his way down to ground level.

She covered him as he secured the grappling rig to the floor at the mouth of the cave, drawing fire by darting in to a chunk of a pool table and shooting from behind the green felt and splintered wood.

"Nat, c'mon!" He yelled as he disappeared over the edge and down towards their getaway boat.

She slung one last explosive into the enemy's midst and made a break for the exit.

She was almost at the mouth of the cave when pain bloomed through her leg as a bullet tore through it and it gave way beneath her. She rolled, landing on her back just in time to gasp in horror as the structure collapsed and the ceiling of rocks crashed down towards her.

She curled in on herself, throwing her arms up to protect her head and as a terrible crash resounded in her ears, she braced for the impact.

It never came.

Surprised, she glanced up to see Loki's strained face hovering over her, his body caged protectively around hers. His brows were knitted together and his teeth clenched in effort as he literally held the roof off her. A trickle of blood seeped down from the back of his head as she stared at him in shock.

Her enemy had just _saved her life_.

"Go." He grunted when she still hadn't moved.

"But what about-"

"GO!" He yelled, his voice strained, and Natasha scrambled the few feet to the rope, clipping her belt to the line and lowering herself over the edge.

She took one last look at the evil god who had just saved her, and saw his eyes close in relief as she disappeared over the edge and sailed down the cliff.

Fury would _definitely_ want to hear about this.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

She lay in bed that night, going over the events of the day in her head. Clint had hovered annoyingly around her all day, being more than a little freaked out at her near death experience.

"God, Nat I thought," he told her as he crushed her to his chest after she landed safely on the boat, "I saw the roof collapse and I thought, you were a goner for sure."

He had been reluctant to let her out of his sight even as the medic insisted he patch up her leg. She loved Clint like a brother but she hated it when he got over-protective like this. She owed him a debt, but sometimes he would treat her as if she were his charge; she didn't want him to be responsible for her life – he had already saved her once and every time he took responsibility for her she felt like her debt only increased and she would drown in the red of her ledger.

Her thoughts then drifted to the would-be prince – why had he saved her?

She was a mortal and nothing more to him than a plaything, something to satisfy his needs and pass the time. Why would he care if she lived or died? And why was he even there in the first place?

She had figured he was after the power chip as well but he had never gone for it once. He had, however, killed the target before she could get information out of him.

Was there something Trevelyan knew that Loki didn't want her to know?

Was he somehow involved in all of this?

He had killed Trevelyan right before she employed the final stage of the Black Widow technique; could that mean, could it possibly be – Loki was jealous?

"Goddammit." She muttered as the thoughts chased themselves around her head for hours.

They were interrupted suddenly when she heard a familiar crackling noise.

' _Speak of the devil, and he will come.'_ She thought wryly as Loki himself stepped through her mirror.

"Good evening, Miss Romanov." He greeted her with a nod and a smirk.

Instead of rounding on her and getting down to business as usual, he wandered over to her window, hands clasped behind his back. She stood silently and watched him as he stared out the window at the cityscape by night.

"Thought you were hurt?" She questioned.

In the reflection of the window she saw him raise a perfect eyebrow at her.

"As were you, I believe. We immortals heal quickly, you know that."

They fell silent again.

"I suppose you have questions."

Natasha stared at him, wondering (and not for the first time) if the god could read minds. She composed her expression as he turned to face her, and considered her words, deciding to go with the blunt tactic.

"What am I to you?"

When he didn't answer, she continued.

"Is it stress relief? Or boredom? Or just a way to block out the aching loneliness for a few hours?"

She kept her face carefully blank – they would both need their masks on for this discussion.

Curiosity flashed across his features. He opened his mouth to speak, thought better of it, and closed it again, his regular nonchalant expression sliding into place. She wondered what he had been going to say.

"What makes you think you mean anything to me?" He replied with instead, lips curling into the trademark smirk.

"Mortal lives are so fleeting, a blink in the existence of the cosmos."

She cocked her head to the side, arms crossed over her chest. "Just how old are you, anyway?"

Loki raised an eyebrow at her, but did not dignify that with an answer. "I am, as always, content with my own company, and my current emancipation is necessary."

She matched his smirk. "So boredom then?"

Loki gave a half-hearted shrug.

"Perhaps you sparked my interest. Perhaps I just wanted to show your mighty Avengers that I can dominate you, one of their own. That I can break you – the mortal who tricked the Trickster."

He grinned darkly, trying to intimidate her. He stepped in close, forcing her to retreat until the back of her knees hit the side of the bed. He loomed over her, lust sparkling beneath his emerald eyes.

"I do so _enjoy_ dominating you."

She smirked at him, trying to pretend that his words did not cause a shiver to run down her spine.

"You saved me today, why?"

Strong, lean fingers grasped her jaw tightly, tipping her chin up to look into his perfect face. His smirk mocked her.

"Well, I couldn't very well let my favourite play-thing get squashed now, could I?"

Natasha pulled free of his grip and flopped back onto the bed, narrowing her eyes at him.

"The boot does not care if the ant dies." She used his jibe against Fury. "But you cared. You feel something." She tried to push him further.

A frown crossed his face and he snorted indignantly.

' _Too far'_ she thought, as his walls went up once again.

"Sentiment." He spat the word. "I have sentiment for no one and nothing, not even a mortal. Especially not a mortal."

She curled up her legs towards her, wrapping her arms around her knees as she considered his reaction. He turned away from her, hands clasped behind his back and a frown marring his features. She watched his stony expression for any sign of a crack, but saw nothing.

She rested her head on her arms as she waited for him to speak again, worried that she had gone too far, but he said nothing. He was silent for so long that Natasha had almost dozed off. She was half asleep when she heard his quiet murmur.

"Haven't you heard the stories, little spider? Frost Giants have no feelings."

His expression was rueful and sarcastic, but it was his eyes that gave him away; they were full of confusion, desolation, bitter loneliness and devastating sadness.

His mask had cracked. And now she had the advantage.


	5. The Scars

 

* * *

_I want to fuck you like an animal_   
_I want to feel you from the inside_   
_I want to fuck you like an animal_   
_My whole existence is flawed_   
_You get me closer to god_

_~ "Closer", Nine Inch Nails_

* * *

"No more interrupting missions." She had told him. "I'm not your plaything." She had said. And look where it had got her.

Her limbs tied together behind her back, the bonds so tight they were starting to cut off her circulation. She could feel the cut of rope across her shoulders and around her chest, above and below her breasts, squeezing them tightly together to the point of pain.

She had been hogtied.

"Loki." She spat, "Untie me right now!" She demanded, anger and humiliation boiling her blood.

He clucked his tongue at her disapprovingly. "I don't think you're in any position to be making demands, Miss Romanov."

She jolted as something cool and leathery brushed over her skin and trailed down her side and over her backside. "I think it's time you learnt to show the proper respect to a god, is that understood, little spider?"

Natasha struggled against her bonds but they held tight. ' _This is not how this discussion was meant to go.'_ She thought.

She heard a whoosh and then a sharp slap that made her ass sting and she cried out.

The bastard had a riding crop!

She cried out again as another bolt of pain stung her ass. She grit her teeth as he rained down sharp slaps to her rear. Her ass felt hot and sensitive and she jolted every time he whipped her, the pain made her eyes water and yet she could already feel she was dripping wet.

Gasps and small cries fell from her lips. He stilled abruptly, and Natasha heard a dull clatter as he let the riding crop fall from his hand.

The ropes around her legs loosened and pulled, slithering off her like snakes, though he left her arms bound. He positioned her like a rag doll, tucking her knees up so that she was more comfortable, but exposing her ass.

She felt his cool tongue tickle the red hot welts on her backside. She bit down on a pillow to stifle her moan, but his soft chuckle told her he'd heard it anyway.

He ran his hands from her ankles up her legs, fingers dancing along the dents where the rope had cut into her skin, an appreciative hum vibrating low in his throat. He kissed and sucked and nipped at her skin, still hot and tender from his attentions with the riding crop, and she gasped and shivered.

She felt his fingers trail up her thigh to her exposed privates. She couldn't help the moan that escaped her lips as his thumb slowly circled her clit. His fingers worked faster and faster, making heat pool in her belly and all the muscles she could still feel clench up as she felt her climax approaching. Lost in the pleasure, she bucked her hips back against him, needing just a little more...

Suddenly he stopped, he drew his hand away and she mewled at the loss. She had been so close!

"Loki! Please."

She heard him chuckle darkly above her and it angered her a little to see how much he was enjoying torturing her.

"Natasha." His voice was light and playful, tinged with desire.

"Natasha, I want to try something else. You will not come until I tell you to, understand?"

Her lust-addled brain barely functioned as it was, but she was desperate to feel him inside her again and so she blindly agreed.

"Yes, yes Sir."

Her agreement was breathy and she heard him moan at the sound, which only turned her on more. His thumb returned to her clit, making her gasp.

She felt one finger enter her, and she wondered if she could actually control her orgasm at all. A second finger entered her, curling and stroking at her g-spot, and his thumb was replaced by his mouth.

She swore loudly at that. The things that man could do with his mouth!

She writhed involuntarily against her restraints as the pleasure became so intense, she didn't know how much longer she could keep her climax at bay. Obscenities and flatteries poured forth from her lips as his tongue dipped and swirled and nipped and sucked, and his fingers pounded into her relentlessly.

She tried to distract herself, tried to think of things that would disturb her, like the creepy, fat Italian shop owner that hit on her whenever she went to get pizza, or corny and predictable evil scientists, or Director Fury…

And it worked fine until Loki decided to remove his fingers and replace them with something _much_ bigger.

She moaned, rather loudly, as he entered her. He started moving slowly at first, but soon was steadily ramming into her and Natasha's mind left her completely, she couldn't string a single thought together.

Natasha couldn't hold on to her sanity much longer, the pleasure was so intense she was literally seeing stars. She finally gave in; she begged.

"Loki please, I'm gonna come, please can I come?"

She heard him groan above her at hearing her beg, but he always had been a rather cruel god.

"Not yet." He told her, and she almost screamed in frustration at the denial.

"Loki," she whined, "please…"

Then Loki did something no man had ever done before. _Ever_. He pressed a wet thumb to her _other_ hole, and rubbed small circles. Natasha jolted violently at the shockwaves that small action caused to crash through her nerves.

"Whoa wait, what are you…" Too late, he gently pushed his thumb inside her.

Natasha's scream morphed into a moan at the feeling. He rammed into her, his moans morphing with hers. The feeling was intense, so, so intense, that she felt like she would explode from pleasure, and she wasn't allowed.

"Natasha," he growled, his grip on her hip tightening as he pumped into her.

Okay. Ouch.

The pleasure drowned out the pain though, like a raindrop in the ocean, and she soon realised she was begging, pleading for her release as she screamed his name over and over.

"You may come."

He wriggled his thumb inside her and brushed his other hand over her clit and she came, exploding and screaming and rocking and shaking.

He pounded into her ever faster, chasing his own orgasm. But the pain in her hip cut her wave of pleasure a little short as his grip tightened again. She tried to grit her teeth and hold her tongue, but it felt as though he was bending her bones.

She knew his strength, and knew he was more than capable of breaking her.

"Loki, stop." She tried to shift away, tried to wriggle her hands free but the rope wouldn't budge. She felt him stiffen, a breathless moan as he pumped his release into her.

His hand clamped down on her hip as he rode out his orgasm and Natasha swore she heard something crack.

"Ah!" She couldn't help the scream as the pain made her feel a little light-headed.

"Loki, stop! You're hurting me!"

Instantly he froze, hand falling away. Relief flooded through her so fast she felt dizzy. "Natasha?" He whispered, his voice hesitant, unsure. He ran his fingers soothingly through her hair and all the ropes disappeared from her body. She collapsed bonelessly onto the bed, ghosting a palm over her tortured hip to try and somehow soothe the ache.

"Wow," she muttered, her voice breathless and her throat dry, "you really did hold back on us mere mortals, didn't you?"

She heard him chuckle and it sounded a little relieved. His cool skin pressed into her back, curling around her, and he entwined one hand with hers. She felt a warmth spread into her hand and slowly the ache in her hip faded. She glanced down. The skin there was already purpling, it would be a nasty bruise, but she felt no pain anymore.

She didn't have the energy to say thanks – she hardly had the energy to breathe. Closing her eyes, she relaxed into the soft bed; the hard planes of his cool abdomen behind her and the soft silken pillows beneath her felt like heaven.

Loki stared down at the ugly, purple blotch that marred her porcelain skin, a deep frown etched into his face.

"Apologies, little spider. This is what happens when you lie with a monster." He muttered softly into her vibrant, red hair.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her neck, but she never replied, and when he tucked her hair behind her ear to see her face, she was fast asleep.

A genuine smile crept across his face as he tucked her head neatly under his chin and draped an arm over her waist.

No one ever came to visit him in his cell on Asgard, and if they did, they would see his clone, chained up and sleeping in the corner. He could stay for a little while – just as a kindness to her, of course.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Natasha was cold.

Sleepily, she felt around for the blanket, but instead her hand came into contact with cool, soft skin. Her eyes flickered open and she glanced over her shoulder to see Loki still in bed with her.

Strange, he had never stayed and slept with her before. She rolled over slowly, so as not to disturb him, and propped her head up on her hand, studying him intently.

He lay naked on his back in her bed and the bright light of the moon bathed his pale skin. The arm crooked behind his head bulged with muscle and dark lashes lay in contrast against pale cheeks. His chest was almost hypnotic with the alluring way it rose and fell with each breath, but Natasha focused instead on what had first caught her attention.

Scars.

Loki had so many scars.

She felt a pang of anger at herself, how could she not have noticed this before? She was certain his skin had always been as smooth and clear as marble, but while some of the scars looked recent, others looked very old. When had this happened?

She examined his body more closely.

Small circular scars, no bigger than her fingertip, sat beneath each rib on both sides of his chest; they were puckered and pink and looked the most recent.

Four sharp lines were etched into his hip, like claw marks, and another pale line marred his shoulder.

Natasha could see an angry pink line just visible beneath his hairline, and tiny, evenly spaced lines scarred his lips.

Faint, silvery lines scored the inside of his forearms, but the most prominent scar looked as if a fiery liquid had scorched his chest, the squiggly pale lines appearing on his collarbones and ending abruptly just above his navel.

She arched her neck to look over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of two large, pale, jagged lines that ran down his back on either side of his spine.

She stared at his face, so peaceful in his sleep, and yet his body was a warzone.

Natasha had an overwhelming urge to touch one, but just as she reached out her hand to his chest, they all disappeared before her eyes. Natasha blinked a few times in shock. Had she imagined them?

She looked to Loki's face and saw that his eyes were now open and he was staring at her. His mouth was a thin line and his green eyes were hard and cold.

Natasha realised her mouth was hanging open. She closed it with a snap, and then opened it again.

"You're covering them up." She gestured at his now perfect body, "With magic?"

Loki said nothing but sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"Well that explains why I never noticed them before." She muttered to his back.

Loki stood and instantly dressed himself with a wave of his hand. He made as if to leave but Natasha leaned across the bed and grabbed the back of his cloak.

"Wait." She breathed, "I don't understand. Why are you hiding them? It's nothing to be ashamed of. How did you get them?"

Loki turned his head to the side slightly so that she could just make out his features in the darkness.

"I think," it was almost a whisper, "that this is quite enough time spent together for a while."

She retracted her hand as if it had been zapped, the venom in his voice was like a slap to the face. He strode quietly towards the mirror and vanished, leaving Natasha sitting on the bed, alone and utterly bewildered. She wasn't even sure what to make of that, but perhaps Fury would have a better insight, she would report to him in the morning.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

' _Stupid moody god and his stupid moods.'_ Natasha fumed as she angrily stuffed clothes into her suitcase.

She and Hawkeye had been given a surveillance assignment of the city's drug cartel that had bitten off a little more than they could chew in the way of nuclear weapons. Seeing as the mission would probably last a few weeks, and that her apartment was on the outskirts of the city, Natasha had decided it would be beneficial if she moved into Stark Tower as it would put her closer to the action and her partner.

Plus, it would probably also annoy a certain demi-god who had royally pissed her off.

Loki had not been to see her in over a week after that little "scars" debacle. She thought she had been getting somewhere with him recently, but then he goes and shuts her out.

When she had reported to Fury, he warned her that continuous torture could make one unpredictable, and she couldn't agree more.

She had always been good at reading people; Steve had been convinced that she could read his mind, but Loki was something else entirely. Just when she thought she had him figured out, he would say or do something that left her stumped.

Sometimes, she could see the broken, jagged pieces of a damaged god hiding behind those green eyes, and sometimes he was so cold and aloof that Natasha wasn't so sure that there was any of Loki left to save.

Maybe he was playing her and maybe this was all just a game to him, but Natasha didn't care.

She would break him. She would tear away, piece by piece, his cold, hard exterior that was so like her own. She would rip out his soul and merge it with hers, and she would feel his pain and anguish, his rage and his sadness, and his burden would be shared.

She had to believe she could fix him, just as she had to believe that everyone deserved a second chance, otherwise why should one have been given to her but refused to him?

She had just as much blood on her hands as he had, like he had once said, her ledger was gushing, and if she could scrub some of the blood from her soul with his redemption, then she would do everything in her power to achieve it.

A line from a play jumped out of her memory and she smirked sardonically; _'Out, damned spot.'_

Loki would wash away her spots and she would wash his. But first, she would have to break the wall that his emotions were dammed behind. Only then could she start to piece the broken god back together.

A plan began to form in her mind and she steeled herself, she would complete her mission no matter what it took.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Everyone better have got that Shakespeare reference or I will be sorely disappointed :D


	6. The Break

* * *

_I know you've suffered_   
_But I don't want you to hide_   
_It's cold and loveless_   
_I won't let you be denied_

_~ "Undisclosed Desires", Muse_

* * *

Natasha let her silky blue ball gown slide off her shoulders and pool around her ankles. She then proceeded to detach the numerous concealed weapons from her person and stepped into the steaming bath water.

As she let her body sink below the surface, she could hear Clint in the next room debriefing Director Fury over the Comm-link. They had discovered that the cartel boss was David Sawfford, son of the well-known and wealthy businessman, Alexander Sawfford, who apparently had no idea that his son was running a drug ring from his house. Alexander was holding a benefit for the release of his new product, and she and Clint had taken the opportunity to plant bugs throughout the house.

Natasha took a breath, closed her eyes, and let herself sink beneath the water for a moment, the searing liquid washing away the night's work and drowning out the world, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

She mulled over what she was about to do, a sudden feeling of apprehension washed over her but she pushed it away – this was her mission now. She could only hope that her plan wouldn't hurt Clint too much, she needed her best friend, he was the solid constant in her life, when everything around her was turmoil, he was her rock, and she would need him now more than ever.

Natasha stood up, suddenly determined. She strode across the cold tiles and flung open the bathroom door. Clint sat on the bed adjusting the sight on his crossbow, but when he saw her standing butt naked in the doorway his hand slipped and the arrow fired and embedded itself in the wall with a twang.

Clint averted his eyes and stuttered nervously, "Natasha, what...I...uhh"

He hurriedly retrieved his arrow from the wall and somehow found his voice again.

"Jesus Nat, put some freaking clothes on." He mumbled, still not looking at her.

She said nothing and instead sauntered over to him, his eyes finally travelled up her legs and she knew he was watching her hips swing enticingly. Natasha smiled softly as she reached him, delicately taking the arrow from his hand and letting it drop to the floor before kissing him passionately.

From there, Clint's body seemed to be on auto-pilot. He didn't say anything further but reacted instantly, wrapping her in his arms and plopping her down on the bed. Her fingers swiftly unbuttoned his shirt while his tangled in her hair.

Their mouths disconnected briefly so Clint could rid himself of his pants before fusing together again as he gently laid her back on the bed.

As Clint's fingers trailed over her body, Natasha remembered how Loki's slender pale fingers had caressed every inch of her skin, and as Clint kissed his way down and back up her chest, Natasha recalled how Loki had done the same only nights before.

Clint kissed her deeply again before pulling away, "Oh god Natasha, I..." but Natasha put a finger to his lips and cut him off.

"Don't say anything." Her eyes met his. "Please."

She leaned up and connected their mouths once more, and Clint made no more protests.

Natasha felt a little guilty, knowing that Clint's feelings ran deeper than hers, and a painful heaviness settled in her chest as he entered her.

Natasha moaned as Clint drove into her, but her mind was a thousand miles away. She wondered how angry Loki would be when he found out, and she hoped to god that this would be enough of a push in the right direction.

Natasha closed her eyes and thought of smouldering green eyes, silky black hair and cold pale fingertips.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

In a prison cell in Asgard, the Trickster god punched a wall in a fit of anger. He stared at the cracks he had made. It reminded him of a spider's web.

"What ails you, my brother?" Came a voice from the darkness.

Loki spun on his heel to see Thor's concerned face peering at him from behind the bars. Loki glared at his brother before schooling his features. He was never one to wear his heart on his sleeve.

He ignored Thor's question completely and instead asked his own; "How much time?"

He turned away from his brother and began to pace his tiny cell.

Thor paused for a moment before muttering an answer, "Five days."

Loki could hear the anxiousness in his voice. "I wish to be alone." He stated, turning his back on his brother.

"Nay brother, I..." but Loki cut him off with a sharp look.

"Loki..." Thor whined like a pup and Loki almost smiled.

"Do not fret, brother. It is most unbecoming."

There was silence for a while until Loki heard the shuffle of footsteps and knew that Thor had gone.

Loki sighed.

He should have known better than to trust a mortal. Sentimental, barbaric creatures. He had thought her different, thought her wit, cunning and intelligence indicated her superiority to the rest of her kind. Clearly, he had been wrong.

Nobody crossed the God of Mischief and Chaos without living to regret it. And he would make her regret it. He was done playing with the mortal femme fatale; it was time to finally put his plan into action.

Conjuring a pen and paper, he began to write, detailing to his accomplice what he required and the steps that needed to be taken in order to be prepared.

He spent the next few hours with his forehead pressed against the iron bars of the room's only window, trying to coax a tiny bird to his hand with crumbs from yesterday's barely-touched meal. With a little magical influence, the sparrow eventually hopped up onto his hand, pecking at the stale crumbs there. Its feathers were a sleek brown and red, a tiny green tuft between its eyes.

He reached out gently and brushed one long finger down the bird's back, feeling the delicately fragile bones beneath the feathers and knowing that one wrong twitch could crush the tiny animal beneath his finger. The bird cocked its head and chirrped happily at him.

He folded the note and fastened it to the bird's leg. With a murmur and a flick of his wrist, he sent the tiny creature off to find the Enchantress and watched as it fluttered away, tweeting happily in a freedom that it could not even comprehend.

A clatter was heard from behind him as a tray of food was pushed under the prison door. Fading footsteps echoed as the guard who brought it retreated hastily without saying a word to his Prince.

Nevertheless, Loki smiled.

He plucked an apple from his tray, tossing it with lithe fingers a few times before taking a bite. He let the juice run down his chin and smirked.

Mischief was such fun! But first, he had a more imminent matter to attend to. _She_ was home.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Natasha kicked open her apartment door and dumped the boxes by the couch. She had decided that she would take a few more of her things to her new room in Stark Tower in order to make the place seem more familiar.

Natasha didn't have a lot of things, her apartment was sparsely decorated as it was, but she had collected a few nick-nacks and things of sentimental value and usefulness over the years.

She started with her old gun drawer, throwing out the junk and boxing the stuff that was still good. She placed the numerous blades that she had hidden around the house in the box along with a few good issues of _'Guns Weekly'_ that she had kept. And of course, she packed her mirror, just in case a certain someone decided to visit.

She didn't know exactly how that worked, weather he actually needed the mirror or not, but she figured it was better to be safe than sorry. Her collection of books took up two boxes – not many people knew that she liked to read as her taste in literature was a little unusual – her compilation ranged from Shakespeare, Arthur Conan Doyle and Jane Austen to Russian classics, her favourite being Tolstoy's _Anna Karenina_.

She began wrapping her favourite tea set in newspaper and placing it in the box.

"It would seem someone has had quite the eventful week, have they not?"

His voice startled her so much that one of the delicate china cups slipped out of her hand and even with her superhuman reflexes, she only just managed to grasp it before it shattered on the floor.

Natasha met his eyes slowly, suddenly more terrified than she had ever been in her life.

His eyes were no longer the dancing, vivacious green she remembered, but instead were so hard they were almost like slate. His mouth formed a thin line so pale that it did not differ in colour from the rest of his face. She had never seen anyone so frightening.

"Loki, I..." she started, but he stepped forward and bent closer until his face was level with hers, and the anger in his eyes made the words die in her throat.

After what seemed like a lifetime, Loki faced away from her and stood with his hands behind his back. Natasha inhaled again – she hadn't even realised she had been holding her breath.

"Little spider," His words were so soft but they sent a chill down her spine.

"It has become apparent to me that I have not made myself clear enough."

He fiddled with the hem of his sleeves as he spoke, his voice so low and calm that it made Natasha feel something she had not felt in a long time – vulnerable.

"For that I must apologise." He turned to face her again and she gasped.

His eyes were blood red.

"It will be rectified immediately." He growled, his arm shot out and his fingers closed around her neck. He lifted her off the couch and brought her inches from his face.

"You are _mine_ ," he hissed, a sound so deadly it made her hairs stand on end, "you will never want another man, you will never want anyone but me. I own you, until your mortal heart gives out, diseased and bleeding. And when it does, I will be there to watch you die, because you are mine, forever."

His grip around her throat tightened and made spots appear in her vision, but the words he spoke made her heart beat faster and almost made her smile – so he did have feelings for her after all.

Loki moved so quickly that Natasha didn't realise that her clothes had disappeared and that he had sat on the couch and slung her over his lap, ass in the air, until she felt the first stinging slap across her backside.

She screamed in surprise and pain and tried to fend him off with her hands, but her caught her wrists and held them together behind her back. She felt a coarse material slide over her wrists and she tried to crane her neck over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of Loki deftly tying her wrists with a thick rope.

His hand came down upon her backside again and Natasha thought that he must be using his magic because the impacts felt more like a whip then a slap. The sharp, repetitive sound of flesh on flesh rang harshly throughout the apartment, thickening the atmosphere with fear.

She noted gratefully though, that despite his anger, he kept his strength in check, and she knew that some form of sentiment for her had crept into his heart.

She squeezed her eyes shut, the pain making her eyes water, and let out screams and groans through gritted teeth, until the point where her ass felt numb, yet at the same time it was on fire. Then finally, finally, he stopped.

She turned her head and tried to see through watery eyes what pain Loki would be inflicting next, and she couldn't help the whimper that escaped her lips when Loki bent his head and blew across her burning cheeks, his cool breath sending a shiver down her spine.

He glanced over at her and she noticed that his eyes had darkened, now more of a browny-red colour. He sneered at her and she was suddenly reminded of a vampire from those old movies, baring his fangs before sinking his teeth into his prey. Except Loki would be taking a bite out of her ass, not her neck.

Instead, Loki rolled her off his lap and unceremoniously dumped her on the floor. The pain that shot through her behind was almost immediately soothed by the coldness of the floor.

She scrambled awkwardly to her feet without the use of her hands. Loki stood and faced her, staring at her like he was trying to see through her. The mask he wore now was of calm and careful control, but Natasha could see the fire burning in his eyes.

"Kneel." He commanded her with a power and strength in his voice that was irrefutable.

A surge of defiance ran through her, but she quickly quashed it; it would do her no good to disobey him now. She hesitated, but eventually dropped to her knees. She noticed the corners of Loki's mouth twitch upwards into a satisfied smirk.

Loki leaned forward and grabbed her jaw roughly, squeezing her cheeks and pulling her face closer.

"Do you think that's enough punishment?" He asked, she tried to nod but his iron grip on her jaw made it impossible.

"No?" He mocked her, "Good. Neither do I."

Natasha's eyes widened as Loki's clothes dissolved with a wave of his hand and as his fingers wound themselves tightly into her hair, she realised what was about to happen.

He squeezed her jaw harder and she obediently opened her mouth and took him in. She flattened her tongue, pushing as far as was comfortable, but she knew she would never fit him all in.

She stopped, and she heard Loki snort before he shoved her head down until her nose was touching his stomach.

He held her there for a second while she choked before ripping her mouth off him, watching her as she coughed and spluttered.

Using her hair like reins, Loki set a steady pace and Natasha tried to relax her throat to accommodate him. The deep thrusts caused her eyes to water even more as she choked on him, until the salty liquid finally spilled over her bottom lashes and smeared her cheeks.

Suddenly, he pulled on her hair harshly and she released him with a loud pop, coughing and gasping for air. Without saying a word he shoved her and, without her hands, she toppled backward to the floor. He grabbed her behind the knees and with a swift tug, pulled her so she was upside down with her back against the couch, legs flipped her over her head.

He bent over her, the feeling of his breath between her legs exhilarated her and caused excitement to pool in her belly. Natasha couldn't help but moan when he licked a long line from her clit to her ass, but it turned into a cry of pain as he struck her once more.

She heard him shift above her, and then his cool length impaled her.

She had never felt more vulnerable and out of control in her life, and it stimulated her. No man had ever made her feel this way, she had always been in control of every situation. Whether she was having sex for pleasure or, more likely, was using it to seduce a man for the sake of her mission, Natasha had always called the shots, she was always the one on top.

But this, the things Loki was doing to her, made her feel wild and unrestrained, yet captive and compliant at the same time. She felt freer than she ever had, yet she was a prisoner to his touch. He took her breath away, then gave it back. He ruled her, and she loved it.

Loki fucked her relentlessly. He bit, licked and sucked her body, leaving marks and bruises down her neck, chest, stomach and thighs. He manoeuvred her like a rag doll into the positions he wanted.

When she came on the floor, Loki lifted her in his arms and laid her down on the dining table. When she came on that, he fucked her up against the wall before continuing through the apartment to take her on the kitchen bench.

He made her come four, five, six times and Natasha dazedly hoped her neighbours weren't home because he made her scream with each thrust, pinch and bite.

"Scream my name, and no one else's." He growled into her ear, and she did.

Finally, when Natasha thought she was about to pass out from the intense mix of pain, pleasure and exhaustion, Loki bit down on the soft muscle where her neck met her shoulder, and drew blood as he came inside her with a groan. Neither moved for a few minutes, both breathing heavily.

Loki drew his head back from the crook of her next and Natasha would have laughed if she wasn't so exhausted. His lips were smeared red with her blood. Now he really did look like the vampires from the movies.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and licked his lips. He slid his hands over her shoulders and down her arms, untying the rope with quick and practiced fingers.

Natasha sighed as she was released from her bonds, shaking out her aching arms and rubbing at her chafed wrists. Looking down, she examined her body. Her wrists were red and raw and she could see the bruise purpling under the skin. Large, mottled, hand-shaped bruises had already formed on her hips from where he had held her, and tiny oval love bites littered her body, especially across her chest.

Loki drew back on to his knees and smoothed back his hair with a hand, his clothes magically reappeared and she knew he was going to leave again – he just needed one last push.

"You're jealous." She called out, sitting up, and he paused.

"Feelings aren't always a weakness. The Avengers taught me that." His eyes were bright green again as he stared at her so intensely that she tried to cover herself with her hands, suddenly embarrassed.

They were silent as the minutes ticked by. Natasha hugged her knees as she tried to decide what would give him that final tug over the edge and into the whirlpool of feelings that raged behind his eyes.

Cold fingers of dread gripped her insides as she realised what she would have to do – what she would have to tell him. For it was only fair that if she wanted him to open up, if she wanted to piece the shattered soul of the broken god back together, then first she would have to fix her own, and to do that she would have to rip away her own protective mask and make the first move.

"You were jealous and you're afraid, because I…because I want to know you."

Her voice trailed off at the end but he did not move, his features cold and perfectly expressionless. Natasha took a deep breath and began.

"You already know most things about me. Drakov's daughter." She let her hands fall into her lap and stared at them.

"Sao Paulo, forty seven people. The hospital fire, ninety three lives." She listed. "I guess Clint told you most of that." She noticed he flinched when she said his name.

There was silence for a long moment as Natasha gathered courage.

"Did you know that I killed my husband?" She looked up at him, his face was unreadable.

"His name was Alexi, he was a decorated war pilot." She gave a small chuckle, though there was no humour in it.

"A hero to the Soviet people. Everybody loved him. I most of all. And he loved me too, I know he did. We were so happy together. The perfect couple in the eyes of the public. I was a famous ballerina, did you know that too?" She glanced up at Loki and the curiosity on his face told her that he hadn't heard this part of her story. She smiled faintly at the memory. "Then the KGB decided that he was too good to share. They told me he died in a plane crash."

Natasha shivered and stood up to hide the crack in her voice. She walked unsteadily back to her lounge room to find her clothes but they were not there, Loki must have magicked them away. Suddenly she felt a weight on her shoulders, and turned to find Loki draping his coat over her before stepping back, expressionless as ever.

His coat was warm and smelt just like him. She breathed in deep before continuing.

"I've never felt such grief as I did in those years, and I doubt I ever will." She sat gingerly on the sofa, her ass still aching. After a moment Loki sat down next to her.

"They trained him as the Red Guardian, then sent him to kill me. I tried to talk to him, tried to get him to shake off the brainwashing, but nothing worked. And during our fight a fire had started. The building was starting to collapse and I knew that if we didn't get out now then we would both die. He had me pinned but, I pleaded, tried to reason with him, but he wouldn't let go. So I shot him."

Natasha's eyes were watering again but this time it wasn't from her stinging ass. She let out a heavy breath.

"I just managed to escape before the building collapsed and burned to the ground, but I'll never forget the look in his eyes as I ran."

The next sentence was barely a whisper.

"They screamed murder, betrayal."

Natasha looked disgusted at herself as she fell silent.

Loki still didn't say anything as the minutes passed and the quiet ate away at her until finally, she looked at him expectantly, and was dazzled by his green eyes.

He reached out his hand and she closed her eyes as cool fingertips brushed over her cheek and trailed her bruised, red lips. She leaned in to his touch but it vanished, she opened her eyes and realised he was gone.

Natasha frowned and stared at the teapot that sat forlornly on the table. She could see that the dam that held back his emotions was breaking, but in the process she had just shattered her own emotional wall that had been intact for decades.

For the first time since she was a child, Natasha Romanov allowed the few threatening tears to fall silently and stain her cheeks. She wept for herself and she wept for the man who would never shed a tear for his own pain, and she prayed to a god she didn't believe in that they would both come out of this in one piece, and be able to wash the red from their ledgers together.


	7. The Goodbye

* * *

_You've been the only thing that's right_  
In all I've done  
 _~ "Run", Snow Patrol_

* * *

"Hey Nat, did you lose a fight with your vacuum cleaner or what?"

Tony Stark laughed heartily as he poked her in the side of the neck. Natasha sat down her coffee cup sharply and brushed her hair forwards over her neck while turning and giving Tony the Evil Eye.

"Rhetorical question, love." He placated as he backed away, holding his hands up to show surrender.

"I mean, I know I'm the Albert Einstein of the twenty-first century and whatnot, but I really don't need to be a genius to figure out what you got up to last night."

He winked at her, then quickly ducked behind Captain Rogers who had just walked in to the lounge room to avoid the pen that she had flung at his head.

"Nuttier than a fruitcake, that one." He muttered to Steve, then hurriedly danced out of the room with a giggle to avoid her wrath.

Natasha huffed in anger and turned her attention back to the blueprints of the cartel's warehouse that she was studying, she heard Captain America chuckle behind her. She gave him a sharp look over her shoulder.

"Not you too." She rolled her eyes and faced the maps again.

"No, no." Steve denied as he joined her in poring over the papers.

"What you get up to in your spare time is strictly between you and Barton, and frankly I think Stark's behaviour is–"

Natasha cut him off with a surprised look. "What?"

Steve backtracked. "No, I didn't mean to offend. I actually think it's nice what you two have, it's good to see two people..."

But Natasha had already tuned him out. People thought she'd _had sex with Clint_.

' _Oh shit_ ' Natasha thought to herself.

Well, that at least explained that odd situation earlier where Clint had walked into the common room, took one look at her, and walked straight back out. He had been avoiding her like the plague all day. Which was hard to do when you lived and worked together.

Natasha hurried out of the room, calling a distracted "Sorry, gotta run." over her shoulder to a very confused Steve.

She strode down the halls purposefully, taking the stairs to the upper levels of Stark Tower, the heels of her black boots clicking as she searched. As she passed the door to the firing range, Natasha heard the twang of a bow and knew it would be Clint.

She should have known he would be here. They both felt the urge to train when they needed to blow off steam. Though normally, his stress wasn't caused by her.

Natasha pushed open the door cautiously to see Clint fire another arrow into a bullseye. He didn't acknowledge her presence even as she walked up to stand beside him, he simply plucked another arrow from his quiver and drew it.

"Clint..." she started softly, but the sharp sound of him releasing the arrow made her flinch.

She paused, waiting for him to say something. He lowered his bow, staring at the curved weapon in his hands for a few moments before finally turning to her.

The look in his eyes made a strange feeling crash over her. She realised it was guilt.

"So, who is he?"

His blue eyes bore into hers for a moment, before turning back to the target and stringing another arrow.

She shook her head, "It's not like that Clint, Fury gave me a mission."

Clint snorted as he released the arrow with a twang.

Bullseye, of course.

"And has Fury seen you? Seen what your little mission did to you?"

He gestured at the deep bruise on her neck. She crossed her arms, beginning to get a little annoyed at the way he was babying her.

"Clint, we've had far worse injuries with this, and you know this is not the first time I've done this type of mission, nor will it be the last. It's why they send me, it's what I'm good at. We may not always like it but orders are orders, and everything we do is for the greater good, you know that."

She spun on her heel and left him looking appropriately chastised. He was a little jealous but he'd come round, he always did.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Natasha headed back to her room for a shower after her training session in the Stark gym. Clint had been going over the communications from the bugs they had planted in Sawfford's house a few weeks ago, but she had found it a little awkward standing there listening with him, so had decided instead to see if she could punch the guilt out of her system.

Natasha wearily pushed open her bedroom door, only to be greeted by a handsome god, legs crossed, looking quite at home on her couch.

She ignored him and walked past him to grab the bottle of water that sat on her coffee table. She suddenly felt his presence behind her, his breath tickled the tiny hairs on the back of her neck and she closed her eyes as she felt his cool fingers ghost over the bruise on her neck that he had given her.

She tilted her head to the side to give him easier access as his fingers trailed lower, to the healing bite mark on her shoulder.

His hands fluttered down her sides and came to rest on her hips. He dragged the hem of her shirt up slightly and she knew he could see the deep purple bruises where he'd held her too tight.

She turned to face him, and frowned in confusion when she thought she saw sorrow and guilt his large, green eyes.

Loki reached up and smoothed the puzzled frown that marred her forehead with his thumb. He brushed a strand of fiery hair behind her ear with graceful fingers. His silence was making Natasha nervous. After a few more moments, the quiet became far too loud.

"Is something wrong?" Though she lowered her voice, the question still sounded harsh to Natasha's ears.

A slight smile graced Loki's lips, though it was melancholy and forlorn.

"I'm afraid I will not be able to see you for a little while."

His hand dropped from her face and he turned away from her. Natasha scowled at herself for missing his touch.

"Why? Are you going somewhere?" She asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

Natasha noticed a slight frown creasing his perfect features.

"I cannot say." He replied mysteriously, and strode away from her and towards the window, hands clasped behind his back as if deep in thought.

She followed him to the floor-to-ceiling view of the city and he turned to face her, the frown now gone and his face far softer.

A month ago, Natasha would never have thought that the God of Mischief and Lies was capable of anything other than creating chaos. He had killed so many people and destroyed half of New York, not to mention tried to kill her and her teammates. And yet, the way he was looking at her now...

Natasha had recognised that Loki was attractive, even when she was fighting him. But she hadn't realised how _beautiful_ he was.

His cheekbones were as sharp as if Michelangelo had just carved them himself, his skin pale and translucent, soft as a newborn. He towered above her and above everyone else in the Avenger team for that matter, with the possible exception of Thor. His body was lean and perfectly muscled, filled with a power that she had experienced firsthand. She loved the feel of his silky, smooth black hair on her skin, and _oh_ , those _eyes!_

Natasha could see all too clearly how he could have been considered a god.

Natasha wondered if all gods were this beautiful, and a sudden stab of jealousy surprised her as she pictured how attractive the women of Asgard must be.

Loki took a step closer, interrupting her rambling thoughts.

"I merely came to give you something."

And before she could blink, Loki's lips crashed against hers, shattering any chance she had of stringing her thoughts together in her mind.

It was not at all fierce and passionate, the way she had imagined their first kiss would be, but instead it was gentle and soft, cool and reassuring.

Their mouths melded and his lips encased hers, his hand sliding from her cheek to cradle the back of her head. She melted into him, her body pressing up against his.

Engulfed by the heady passion of his kiss, she slid her hands over his shoulders, wrapping her arms around his neck and tangling her fingers in his silky hair, surprised that he was allowing her to touch him so intimately.

She couldn't tell if it was the cold of his body or the heat of his kiss that caused shivers to run down her spine and fire to pool in her chest. A tingling sensation spread to every part of her body as his cool tongue swooped over hers. Natasha's toes curled involuntarily in her boots, she never wanted this feeling to end. But all too soon he pulled away.

"I have to go." He whispered.

She opened her mouth to protest but before she could say a word, he was gone.

Natasha suddenly felt weak at the knees and had to plop down on the couch to keep from falling over.

She touched her fingers to her lips. They still tingled with the sweetness of his kiss.

Things were changing rapidly and she wasn't even sure what to tell Fury anymore.

* * *


	8. The Punishment

* * *

_This one had it coming, this one found a vein_   
_This one was an accident, but never gave me pain_   
_This one was my father's, and this one you can't see_   
_This one had me scared to death_   
_But I guess I should be glad I'm not dead_

_~"Made of Scars", Stone Sour_

* * *

The next few weeks were horrible. Natasha found that she missed Loki, which only made her angry at herself.

He was her target, her mark, yet she often caught herself thinking about him, wondering where he was and what kind of mission was so important that he couldn't see her. And every time, she berated herself for acting like some love-struck schoolgirl with a crush.

' _Love is for children'_ she kept reminding herself, but somewhere deep inside, Natasha knew that she was starting to believe less and less in her mantra.

Not only that, but Clint was still being rather awkward around her, and she often had the urge to smack him upside the head and tell him to get over it, but she doubted that would help the situation.

To top it all off, Natasha had managed to catch a stomach bug from some ungodly place (her bet was on her last mission to India), and the swirling, gnawing pit in her stomach made her want to hurl everything back up as soon as she had put food in her mouth.

Those two weeks without Loki were horrible for Natasha, but not nearly as horrible as it was for her lover, thousands of light-years away...

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

_Two Weeks Earlier_

Loki heard footsteps echoing down the corridor to his cell.

Today was the day.

His brother's stern face appeared behind the bars of his cell door. Thor looked unhappy, to say the least. His brows were knitted together and he almost looked like he was pouting.

It wouldn't have surprised Loki, his brother always was the childish one. And yet for some reason, everyone adored him anyway. Go figure.

Thor unlocked the door and it swung open with a loud clang. He stood before his adopted brother and used the same key to unlock the shackles binding his wrists. He let them fall to the floor.

Loki could see in his brother's face that he was dying to speak, to say something. He opened his mouth but Loki placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and shook his head, silencing him.

He didn't want to hear it. Everything Thor had to say was already written all over his face.

His sky blue eyes shone with pity, sadness, grief, regret and a hint of anger and disappointment.

Loki didn't want to hear any of it.

Instead, he walked past his brother and down the corridor, away from his dull, grey prison.

Thor quickly caught up to him and grasped his shoulder in his large hand. Loki let himself be steered. He would never admit it, but the familiar warm touch was as comforting to him as it was to Thor.

The siblings were flanked by royal guards as they entered the great, open Throne room. Thor was hustled to the side as the two guards grasped Loki by the arms and marched him towards his "father".

The entire hall was filled with people. It looked like the whole of Asgard had turned up to see Loki humiliated.

He sneered at them, and gave a satisfied smirk when the closest ones stepped back in fear.

Loki and the guards stopped in front of the few stairs which led to the altar where Odin's throne sat. The All Father was not the only one on the altar though. A long, ornate table had been placed in front of them, and at it sat eight elderly Asgardians, four on each side of his father's throne.

The High Council.

His mother, Frigga, stood at Odin's side, her hand curled around his high-backed chair. Her face looked stern but it was her eyes that gave her away. They were filled with sorrow and pain, she looked on the verge of tears.

Thor had made his own way up through the crowd and now joined his mother, standing on the opposite side of his father. His hand also came to rest upon the throne.

Loki smiled at the irony of it all.

There they were, looking like the perfect family portrait, all grasping what he could never touch – the throne. And here he was, bowed at their feet, in his rightful place.

A fitting position for a monster such as he.

Anger swelled up in his chest and Loki had to fight to control his expression. He was thankfully distracted from his rage when the Councilman to Odin's right stood and unraveled the scroll in his hands. He cleared his throat and the hall suddenly became deathly quiet.

"LOKI LAUFEYSON," his voice reverberated around the walls like a death sentence.

' _So, he has told the world of my true heritage then.'_ Loki thought bitterly, and it struck him like a blade of ice to the heart.

"SECOND SON OF ODIN, THE GREAT ALL FATHER, YOU ARE HEREBY SENTENCED TO ASGARDIAN JUSTICE FOR THE ATROCIOUS CRIMES COMMITTED ON THE MORTAL PLANET OF MIDGARD. YOUR CRIMES INCLUDE, BUT ARE NOT LIMITED TO: THE MURDER OF EIGHTY NINE MORTALS, THE DESTRUCTION OF AN ENTIRE CITY,"

"It was only the downtown area." Loki muttered to no one in particular.

"AND VIOLATION OF ASGARDIAN LAW 5739, SUB SECTION 23B - THE PROTECTION OF MIDGARD."

The old, bearded man paused for a moment and glanced to Odin. The All Father gave a curt nod, signalling the man to continue.

"THE HIGH COUNCIL OF ASGARD HAS DECIDED YOUR PUNISHMENT, LOKI LAUFEYSON. THOU ART TO BE SENTENCED IMMEDIATELY TO ONE HUNDRED LASHES WITH THE WHIP OF ETERNAL JUSTICE."

As soon as the Councilman let the scroll snap shut, a hushed murmur broke out in the hall. It grew louder as Odin ordered the guards to take him to the courtyard and chain him to Yggdrasil, the Sacred World Tree.

Loki exhaled slowly through his nose and allowed himself to be carted away. His punishment was necessary if he was to instigate his plan.

' _Damn,'_ he thought, as the guards dragged him backward and the crowd parted to allow his passage. _'This is definitely going to leave a mark.'_

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Thor struggled to watch as his beloved brother was chained to the Tree and stripped bare to the waist.

Thor recalled he and Loki as children, running circles around that tree, and the rest of the courtyard, taking turns to chase each other.

He also remembered sitting with his brother under the shade of that tree as their tutor taught them all about Yggdrasil, the tree which connected all worlds and through which all power and life energy flowed.

The memories caused such a devastating sadness to sweep through Thor that it made his knees weak and he feared he may actually collapse.

As the first crack of the whip sliced through the air and silenced the murmuring crowd, his mother turned to him and buried her face in his shoulder, not able to watch any more pain be inflicted on her son.

On the seventh crack of the whip, Thor also turned his head away, the sight before him causing too much pain for him to bear any more.

A single drop of wetness dripped off the Crown Prince's nose and disappeared into his mother's hair.

The entire time, Loki made not a sound.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

It was two weeks before Loki was strong enough to summon the magic to open the portal to Midgard.

Like all immortals, Loki was not easily injured, and when he was, he healed quickly. But the Whip of Eternal Justice was imbued with ancient magic, it was created to punish Asgardians who committed terrible wrongs.

Loki had heard stories in his youth that the pain of the punishment had drove gods mad. And indeed it was painful, but Loki had endured worse for far less, both at the hands of his own father and of others who thought him weak. But the Whip was old magic, and though Loki was familiar with pain, the Councilmen had to force feed him the Apple of Immortality at 50 lashes just to keep him from dying.

Thor had visited him every day since, bringing him more Apples in attempts to speed his recovery.

Loki accepted the first one but had refused the rest ever since. He did not want his brother's help with this, he wanted to embrace the pain – it was what he deserved.

Frigga also came to see him every day to change his bandages, as she was the only one that Loki would even let near him.

He still loved his mother in spite of everything. She was the only one that had ever treated him and Thor as equals. For that, she was the only one he respected in this realm full of hollow gods.

Today, however, the broken God of Mischief did not wish to speak to either his mother or his brother. So, in the early hours of the morning, Loki summoned a doppelganger to take his place and opened the portal between two realms.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

It was night on Earth, and Natasha was pulling off her boots and crawling into bed when she heard a familiar crackling from her mirror and a moment later Loki stumbled through the reflective glass.

Her face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. Natasha scolded herself silently and tried to look nonchalant.

"Oh, you're back. I..." but her voice trailed off when she noticed that there was something wrong with Loki.

His skin was normally pale, but now he looked plain sickly, he looked bonier than normal too, as if he hadn't eaten in the past weeks, and he held himself stiffly in a strange manner.

The smile slowly slid off her face and her expression became one of dread.

"What's wrong?" she inquired immediately.

Loki tried to smile at her, but it came out as more of a grimace.

"Nothing, little spider. Do not concern yourself."

But Natasha was having none of that.

She got up from her bed and strode over to him, but he took a step back into the shadows of her bedroom. She cocked her head to the side curiously, then took another step forward and reached out her hand to stroke his cheek. He flinched at the movement and retreated further into the shadows.

His actions reminded her of a wild, frightened animal.

"Loki..." she said slowly, confused and concerned. "What happened?" She emphasised each word.

Loki inhaled deeply and attempted to draw himself up to his full height. He strode over to her glass-wall window casually and stared out at the full moon that brightened the night sky and bathed the New York skyline.

He spoke without facing her. "My trial took place earlier this week for the crimes I committed here in your realm. I faced Asgardian justice and was punished accordingly." He spoke as calmly as if he was talking about the weather.

Loki glanced back at Natasha. A frown creased her brow and her plump lips were pressed tightly together in concern.

"What kind of punishment?" She demanded.

He smiled at her, the kind of smile an adult gives an orphaned child when they ask where their parents are. It was foreboding.

He didn't answer her, but went back to staring out the window.

Slowly, she inched closer to him, stretching out her hand to place on his shoulder reassuringly. As soon as she made contact he hissed audibly, and suddenly she was knocked on her ass on the floor.

Natasha propped herself up on her elbows, too bewildered to even stand.

"What the fuck was that?" She demanded.

Then she noticed he was hunched over, his beautiful face contorted with pain. Quickly she stood and went to his side.

"Your back?" Her hand ghosted over his hunched form, never touching.

"They hurt you." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Loki, show me." She reached for the clips on his vest but froze when he let out an animalistic growl, his green eyes shone wildly in the darkness.

"Loki, please..." she begged.

He paused for a moment, his breathing laboured. He pushed past her to seat himself on her bed.

As she stood before him she thought he looked so very fragile, his head bowed and his hands lay defeated in his lap. Not at all the man who had broke her down with well-crafted words almost six months ago.

She sat next to him carefully and her hands again reached for his vest. He winced and sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, but allowed her to undress him.

When Natasha removed the last layer of clothing, she literally gasped in horror.

" _Bozhe moĭ_ " she breathed as the blood-caked bandages fell away.

Thin, crimson lines gouged Loki's back, criss-crossing almost every inch of it. The skin around the wounds was pink and puckered. It looked as though his back was riddled with long craters, a confluence of deep ravines where the rivers that flowed were of his own blood.

Loki remained frozen in place, as if afraid that a single movement would cause the punishment and pain to continue.

Natasha had seen, and even treated, many horrific wounds before, but for some reason, the sight before her made the contents of her stomach heave and churn and she suddenly felt very ill.

Natasha rushed to the bathroom, took a few deep breaths to steady herself and settle her stomach, then grabbed the first aid kit from the medicine cabinet and hurried back.

Loki eyed the large red cross on the kit in her hand and told her; "Your mortal ointments won't work on this wound. The Whip has magic that prevents me from healing."

She opened the box anyway and began rummaging through its contents.

"So, a whip huh?" she said quietly as she gently applied an antiseptic cream to his back. She injected a shot of morphine into an undamaged part of his shoulder and used butterfly clips to pin the edges of his wounds together.

Loki gritted his teeth against the pain. "The Whip of Eternal Justice." He ground out, "Its magic forces me to heal at a much slower rate than usual."

She began wrapping a clean bandage around his torso. As she finished, she let her fingers trail over his shoulder and down his arm, gently mapping each bulging, wiry muscle.

He had rarely ever allowed her to touch him before, and never like this. He usually tied or pinned her hands somehow during their lovemaking, or pulled away when she reached out to him, and it pained her to imagine what had caused his haphephobia.

His old scars were also visible, which meant either he did not have the magic or the energy to cover them up.

She traced over the lines on the palm of his hand, until his fingers curled around her own.

She looked up and fell into those deep seas of green.

She gave in to her urge to kiss him.

Outside, the heavens opened up and sheets of rain poured down. The two lovers were too focused on each other to hear the steady pounding of water droplets against the window pane.

For the first time, he was the vulnerable, fragile one, and she was in control, she was on top. Every one of her actions was controlled and calculated, so as not to hurt him. Every brush of fingertips, every roll of her hips, and every caress of her lips against his was filled with a gentle loving that Natasha had never before experienced with anyone, not even Clint.

As the rain halted for a brief intermission, Loki found himself talking.

Her touch trailed over the contours of his abs and brushed over the more recent scars that punctured the dip between each rib.

"That is the bite of a frightening monster that is found on the moon Titan. It is a worm like creature with a mouth the length of its body, and rows of teeth that could pierce the good Captain's shield."

Natasha tried to picture the beast he described, frowning, she glanced up to see that Loki's expression was stormy and far away.

She reached up and traced over the scars that marred his lips. He gazed down at her and smiled beneath her touch, drawn from his haunting memories.

"That is the reason why you should never bargain with dwarfs." He chuckled and she smiled with him. "They had my mouth sewn shut for my trickery, but it was worth it, for that is how Thor's hammer came to be."

He frowned, looking thoughtful for a moment, before asking, "You can no longer see the ones on my back, can you?"

She hesitated for a moment before shaking her head, not wanting to frighten him off by breaking her silence.

"It is an ancient form of Asgardian punishment, painful but not deadly." He continued. "However, I believe this method made its way to your realm in ancient times and was used for execution. I believe your people named it the Blood Eagle."

She had heard of it, an old Viking torture where they severed the ribs from the spine and spread them out from the incision made in the victim's back, creating the allusion of bloodied wings. She tried to calm the sick feeling in her stomach that arose as an image of Loki undergoing that torture flashed through her mind.

"My _father_ ," – he spat the word, "punished me for trading the goddess Idunn to a giant. Thor had lost his hammer on Jotunheim and I convinced the giant to return it in exchange for Idunn's hand in marriage. Of course, I got her back, I never planned to leave her there." Loki grimaced slightly at the memory.

Her fingers trailed down his side, feeling the four long, jagged scars on his hip. She looked back up at him, questioning.

He answered without her asking. "A bilgesnipe; huge scaly creatures with sharp antlers and claws poisoned with a venom that burns and festers the skin. Father thought I should be more like Thor." The words were bitter on his tongue.

"When we not yet 900 years old, Odin sent us both into the Enchanted Forest for 'survival training', as he put it. Thor was trying to woo a young maiden we had met whilst crossing the Mountains of Asgard and sent me off to collect firewood. I was attacked, that's how I got this one as well." He pointed to the jagged line on his shoulder.

He remembered the fear, the first time he realised that he was alone, that no one would save him, that he had to rely only on himself. And he remembered the grim satisfaction he felt at the expression of shock and horror and awe on Thor's face when he dumped the beast's bloodied corpse at his feet.

Natasha reached up to run her fingers through his silky black hair, reveling in the feel of it before her touch grazed over the jagged scar across his hairline. Loki's eyebrows furrowed, trying to find the words.

"My own doing, that one, before I had learned how to properly wield a blade."

Confused, she raised one eyebrow, questioning. He seemed to know exactly what she was asking, "It was not a punishment. Black hair is most unusual amongst the Aesir you see."

A dull pain settled in her chest at his melancholy smile, and intensified as her attentions fell to the myriad of thin pale scars that ran from wrist to elbow up the soft inside flesh of his forearm.

She didn't have to ask what caused them, she already knew.

The blonde hair and blue eyes of her first childhood friend surged to the front of her mind. The tips of her golden curls dyed red as she stared at the ceiling, unseeing. The bloodied razor lay inches from her fingertips. After all, the only escape from the Red Room at that point was death.

She rested her head against his chest and Loki wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer and allowing her to snuggle into him.

She hesitated before turning her attention to the last scar. She ran her palm over it, and Loki frowned down at her.

"That" he chose his words carefully "was another punishment from my father." Loki paused for a moment and Natasha waited patiently for him to continue.

"I was tied down and a poisonous snake was fastened above me. Its venom dripped steadily and burned skin and bone alike, like acid. I would regenerate only for the poison to eat through to my heart again. An exhausting state of being."

Loki appeared so lost in thought that Natasha didn't dare ask what he was being punished for. He looked far too saddened for her to continue prodding at the memory.

Instead she pressed a kiss to his jugular and, snuggling deeper under the covers, tucked her head under his chin. Under the hand that lay upon his chest she could feel the steady beating of his heart, its rhythmic palpitations slowly lulling her into a dreamless sleep.

When Loki was sure she was in the deepest sleep, he detangled himself from Natasha's limbs and carefully redressed.

He gazed at the peaceful figure beneath the covers for a moment, her skin milky white in the moonlight. A frown marred his sculpted features as a strange feeling crept into his chest, like a band tightening around his heart as he looked upon her.

What was this feeling?

A sense of déjà vu tugged at his memory but he refused bring it into focus.

Yes, he had felt this feeling before, but that was a long time ago, and since then, he has rid himself of all cumbersome feelings – of sentiment.

A memory stirred.

' _Is this love?'_

' _Love is for children.'_

Whether or not love was for children, adults, or all humans alike, Loki had no idea. He did, however, know one thing for certain.

Love was _not_ for monsters.

He gently pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. "Sleep well." He whispered, before stepping back into the shadows and disappearing into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Quick note on ageing: In Thor 2, Loki stated that the Asgardian life expectancy is around 5000 years. In the beginning of the first Thor, Odin found baby Loki during the war against the Frost Giants, stated to have happened 965 AD. Using my amazing math skills and comparing this with the average human life expectancy, I've deduced that a 900 year old Asgardian is physically equivalent to a 15 year old human, and that Loki's age to date is approximately 1050. Mentally, however, is a whole other ball game…
> 
> Bozhe moĭ is the Russian equivalent of 'oh my god'
> 
> haphephobia = fear of being touched


	9. The Impossible

* * *

_As much as I'd like the past not to exist_   
_It still does_   
_And as much as I'd like to feel like I belong here_   
_I'm just as scared as you_

_~ "Lost in Paradise", Evanescence_

* * *

Loki spent the next few weeks in Asgard recovering. He did not visit Midgard in order to direct most of his magic towards healing his battered body, although he kept an eye on Natasha through the glass mirror.

By the end of the third week, Loki's wounds were starting to close up and his strength had begun to return. His punishment having been completed, Loki was now back in his own room.

In the green and gold decor of his childhood bedroom, Loki waited for the Enchantress to make her appearance.

Amora did not keep him waiting long.

She materialized in the centre of his room with an audible pop. He smiled at her, but did not move from his position on the bed. Her answering grin was just as devilish.

"It seems as though you are in need of my services once again Prince Loki."

Her voice was sultry and full of suggestion. Loki rose from the bed gracefully and stalked towards her. He circled behind her and lowered his mouth to her ear.

"Indeed." His voice so low it was almost a growl.

He traced the edge of her very low cut dress with a finger and smirked to himself as he heard her breath hitch. Suddenly he retreated, all business again, knowing that his indifference would leave her wanting.

"I trust everything is in order?" He asked, running a finger along the edge of his desk nonchalantly.

"Of course, my Prince," She nodded eagerly, "everything is just as you asked."

"Good. Bring it to me when you have it. Do not get caught." Loki's face was stern, his eyes determined.

"The replication." He handed her a small, rounded stone tablet, barely bigger than his hand, but filled with ancient writings.

It was exactly like the one he remembered from his childhood. If he closed his eyes, he could still see the memory - a father who appeared to love him, and a brother who he thought would be an eternal companion. Both youngsters claimed a knee and gazed up in awe at the stories spun by the old man. A backdrop of glittering gold and endless treasures surrounded them.

"On the eve of the Solstice Festival, there will only be one guard at that time." He instructed.

"Yes, Your Majesty." The curvaceous woman was breathy with excitement as she tucked the stone into her robes and disappeared with another loud pop, and Loki was left once more to his thoughts.

Ever since he met the mortal woman, Loki felt a constant inner turmoil.

In one instant he despised his so-called family for denying him his birthright, for using him as a bargaining chip and then casting him aside, and in the next he despised himself for craving their love when he knew full well that a monster like him did not deserve the love of a family.

At times Loki would catch himself staring at the fiery redhead and hope would spark in his chest that she would be the one to pull him from the depths of his own misery, that she would save him. But these thoughts were always quickly quashed with bitter self-loathing. Someone like him could not be saved, did not _deserve_ to be saved.

Loki's heart was so bitter and twisted that he wasn't even sure if he had one anymore. But the way that the mortal woman looked at him sometimes, it was almost as if she...

But no, that wasn't possible, no one could love a monster like him. Not even his own family.

Though he loved his mother, and yes even his idiotic brother, unfalteringly, their love had been a lie. They could spin him pretty words of love and family, but he was the God of Lies, he could tell, and he knew that their actions spoke louder than their sickly sweet words.

And that knowledge caused bitterness to rift his heart. He was not only a god, but a Prince of Asgard, he should be loved by all, not cast out, rejected for the monster that lurks beneath his skin.

Loki allowed the constant anger to bubble up inside him. They had made him the 'bad guy', they had made him the villain, the outcast, the monster who haunted children's nightmares.

Loki had stopped trying to fight his fate the moment he had let go of that spear and fallen to his death in the Void. He had given up any hope of redemption, of becoming respected and equal, the moment he decided to give up his life. He had wanted to die, had wanted the pain and suffering to end.

Instead, it had only just begun.

These thoughts caused anger and sadness to swirl in his chest, tightening around his heart to the point of physical pain. With a great amount of self-control, Loki banished the feelings from his mind, disgusted that he allowed himself to feel in the first place.

He exhaled slowly, once again becoming detached from sentiment. He pondered idly whether his emotionally detached nature was a result of the rejection of his father, or a by-product of his Frost Giant heritage.

Loki pushed that repulsive thought from his mind along with the others.

He would not fall to sentiment.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Natasha couldn't remember the last time she felt this frustrated. Not only at Loki, but frustrated at herself for _missing_ the bastard.

Natasha had always been someone who preferred her own company over that of anyone else's, even Clint. _'Not that he would want to spend time with you at the moment anyway.'_ She mused bitterly.

While Clint had started talking to her normally again, she still didn't miss the sadness in his eyes every time he looked at her. And every time it made her heart twist with guilt.

When she had awoken the morning after she had bandaged his wounds, Loki had already left. And he had not come back since.

It frustrated Natasha but also made her worry a little; Loki had opened up to her that night and she couldn't help but wonder if maybe she had pushed too hard and scared him off.

Natasha didn't often misjudge a situation but Loki had always been a difficult one for her to read. All she could do was wait and hope that he would come back to her.

Except Natasha wasn't a particularly patient person.

Natasha groaned and ran a hand through her bright red locks. To top it all off, she was coming down with something. Something _nasty._

She still had bouts of nausea every other day and though at first she had just waited for it to pass, she now finally decided that enough was enough and she'd be damned if she didn't throw every drug she could get her hands on at this stupid sickness.

Of course, she refused to see the impersonal SHIELD doctors, and she couldn't see any civilian doctor. Instead, she slipped out from beneath the warm covers of her bed and made it her morning's mission to seek out the good Dr. Banner.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Bruce Banner was going over paperwork in the office that Tony had allocated him at Stark Tower, when he was interrupted by a hurried knock on the door. He looked up from the papers to see a disgruntled looking Natasha Romanov standing in his doorway.

"Natasha," His eyebrows raised in surprise, "unlike you to be up this early."

He stood and hurriedly removed the stack of papers from the chair opposite his desk, gesturing for her to take a seat.

She did so, rather ungracefully he might add. He sat back down across the desk.

"What can I do for you?" He asked, the picture of perfect bedside manner.

"Sorry to interrupt you Bruce, but I won't bother you long. I just wanted to see if you had something to help me." She smiled sincerely at the man she had come to regard as a friend.

Banner was quiet, considerate and thoughtful, whilst the other team members, not mentioning any names, (Tony, Clint and Thor) were often loud and boisterous.

"It's no bother at all," Bruce smiled back at her, "what do you need?"

"The strongest antibiotics you've got, Doc. Whatever this virus is, I've had it for almost a month now and it's really starting to get on my last nerve." Natasha crossed her arms grumpily.

Banner merely quirked an eyebrow. "A month?" He leant back in the chair and steepled his fingers in front of his mouth thoughtfully. "What are your symptoms?"

"Nausea, dizziness, fatigue." She listed on her fingers.

"Hmm, interesting. Sounds like you could be right. I'd like to take a blood sample and run a few tests to confirm if you'll consent?"

"Whatever you need." Natasha acquiesced, extending her left arm as Dr. Banner rummaged through a tray on the wall to collect the things he needed.

"It shouldn't take too long," He told her, swabbing the area and sliding the needle into her vein. "I'll come get you in a few hours when I have the results."

Natasha watched the little vile fill with her crimson blood. "Sure, I'll just be in the training room."

Banner stuck a small, round bandaid over the wound and gave her shoulder a friendly squeeze. Natasha took that as her cue to leave.

She stopped in the doorway and turned back to the doctor who was now dividing her blood into samples.

"Thank you, Bruce."

Bruce Banner was momentarily stunned by the genuine smile that the Black Widow bestowed upon him.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

In the large gym on the twenty second floor, Natasha steadily worked a defenceless punching bag into oblivion.

The fact that her thoughts were plagued by a certain green-eyed god, who _still_ had not visited her, only made her pound the bag harder. She heard the door click open and turned, thinking it was the doctor with her results.

Clint stopped in the doorway, surprise registered on his face, before muttering, "Sorry, I didn't know... I'll come back later."

He turned to leave again but Natasha called out.

"Wait! It's fine, really."

Clint eyed her for a moment before slinging his gym bag into the corner and then kneeling to rummage through it. Natasha watched him for a moment before sighing and returning her attention to the punching bag.

"Nat, can we talk?" Clint's nervous voice cut across the room.

"Sure." She shrugged, plopping down on a nearby bench and unstrapping her boxing gloves. Clint came to sit beside her.

"Nat, I'm sorry for the way I've been acting lately."

She nodded, neither of them sure what to say next; Clint was all she had, she didn't want to lose him over some nymphomaniac demi-god.

"You know you mean everything to me." Natasha almost whispered, so uncomfortable with communicating the feelings that she had been taught to suppress so long ago.

"You saved my life. I owe you. But it's more than that, you're like family, Clint. My only family. And no matter what happens, family will always love each other. But I can't love you the way to want me to Clint, I just can't. I'm not made for that kind of love, I never will be."

The silence stretched on for a moment before Clint broke it with a sigh.

"You were right as usual, it was your mission, and I got jealous, forgive me Nat?"

She smiled, relieved they were back to normal, "Of course."

"Now," she smirked, jumping up and dropping into a defensive stance in front of him, "spar with me?"

Clint grinned at her for the first time in weeks, and it felt so good to have her best friend back. "You're on!"

She was halfway through kicking his ass when they were interrupted by Dr. Banner suddenly bursting through the doors. His eyes found her.

"Natasha, can I speak with you a moment?" She laid a hand on Clint's shoulder in farewell as she passed him.

"You have the results?" She questioned as she reached the doctor. He nodded and exited the gym, as Natasha followed him down the hall she noticed he seemed nervous, almost as if he was wary of her.

As he pressed the down button on the elevator he finally spoke again, "Yes. But I don't think you're going to like them."

Suddenly, she felt as nervous as he looked.

He took off his glasses, wiped them on his shirt and replaced them before speaking again.

"There's really no other way to put this," he muttered. Even though Bruce only paused for a few seconds, the silence felt like an agonising eternity to Natasha.

Finally he turned to her.

"Natasha, you're pregnant."

Natasha felt like her stomach was dropping faster than the elevator. She merely stared at Banner, unable to speak. Banner took that as his cue to launch into diagnosis.

"I've checked and triple checked and you're human chorionic gonadotropin hormone levels are certainly high enough to assure pregnancy. Not only that, but every test showed you're hCG levels to be at around 26,100 mlU per millilitre. Which means you're approximately 15 weeks along."

That snapped Natasha out of her stupor.

"What?!"

Banner was surprised at her sudden outburst.

"Well I'll need to do an ultrasound to confirm of course."

Natasha shook her head, "No, no. I'm saying that's not possible, Dr. Banner, I'm sure you've read my file, you know as well as I do that I cannot get pregnant, even if I wanted to."

Bruce was wrong. It was impossible for her to get pregnant; a side effect of the super-soldier serum she had been injected with as a child, courtesy of the KGB, was infertility.

Banner frowned, subconsciously stroking the stubble on his chin. A ding broke the silence and the elevator doors opened to Banner's lab on one of the lower levels of Stark tower.

"Once we see the ultrasound we'll know for sure." Bruce told her as he led her past the science labs and to the large medical bay that took up the back half of the floor. She followed him into a side room containing a white hospital bed and a few machines and computers, a shelf full of medical supplies stood against the far wall.

"Alright, could you lie on the bed and pull your shirt up for me please? I'll set this up." He said, turning to a machine that sat on a steel trolley.

Natasha could hear the machine powering up as she pull her top up. She looked down as she lay flat on her back; her stomach still looked fairly flat, maybe a little rounder below her belly button than usual…

Banner wheeled the machine over and positioned a large computer screen near her head.

"Okay, this is gel," he explained, holding up a blue tube, "it will be cold."

Natasha raised one eyebrow. "Your bedside manner is atrocious." She teased.

He gave her a look and squeezed a large glob onto her stomach in retribution. It was freezing.

"Well," he began, grabbing the transducer from its holder and placing it in the goo, "it's not like I've done much doctoring since I left India."

He rubbed the transducer back and forth over her abdomen, staring at the screen the whole time. Finally Natasha's curiosity got the better of her and she followed his gaze to the screen.

It was black and white and very grainy, and Natasha couldn't make out anything at all until Bruce declared "There!" and Natasha saw a strange little blip moving around on the screen.

"See, there's its arms, and there's its little legs." Bruce pointed excitedly at what looked like four tiny buds sprouting out of an egg-sized jellybean.

Banner moved the transducer again, examining the picture, "Yep, definitely about fifteen weeks along." He commented.

But Natasha wasn't listening anymore; the blood drained from her face as her whole world was thrown inside a blender and turned to 'high'. How was this possible? No one who graduated from the Red Room Academy could have children, the Russians made sure of that. No, it couldn't be true, it must be a mistake. But the little blip that stared back at her from the screen told her that it wasn't.

Natasha frowned as she did the math in her head and realised that she wasn't sure if Loki had even been visiting her 15 weeks ago. Also, that ruled out Clint as the father, as their little romp was only about four weeks ago. And before that, she hadn't been with anyone in at least two years.

This whole thing was starting to give Natasha a headache.

She hadn't realised she had closed her eyes until she opened them to find Bruce staring at her concerned.

"Hey," He said softly, "go upstairs and get some sleep. We can do another ultrasound in two weeks and see how things are going but don't stress, okay? We'll figure this out." He gave her a warm smile and handed her a cloth to wipe the goo from her stomach.

Natasha thanked the doctor and left, knowing he was watching her worriedly but her mind was racing much too fast to care.

She didn't know how she knew, she could just feel it deep inside. It was the only way that could possibly make sense.

She was carrying Loki's baby.

Natasha made her way back up to her room in a daze. She closed the door and slid down the wall to the floor; she sat there until she lost track of time, until the reality sunk in.

What would her teammates do when they found out she was pregnant? What would they say when they found out Loki was the father? What would Fury do? Would they disown her? Send her back to Russia?

Would they want to kill the baby?

Natasha's eyes stung as the thought passed unbidden through her mind.

_No,_ one side of her reasoned, _they were her friends, no matter how angry they were, they would never do something like that._

But another, darker side of her disagreed, _they may be your "friends" but they are still part of a government organisation – a government organisation that would have no qualms about taking the life of a possibly super-powered, psychopathic child, in order to maintain peace._

Natasha shook her head; she refused to think like that. She would never allow that to happen, even if it was Loki's baby, it was hers too, and she would die before she let them take it from her.

Even after all these thoughts passed through Natasha's mind, one question still remained. _What would she tell Loki?_

If the bastard ever came back, that is...


	10. The Absence

* * *

_The maniac messiah,_   
_Destruction is his game._   
_A beautiful liar,_   
_Love for him is pain._

_~ "End of All Days", 30 Seconds to Mars_

* * *

_Two Weeks Later_

"Incredible."

"Told you it was strange."

"This is beyond strange but, this is like Cirque de Soleil level freakiness."

Natasha rolled her eyes at that last comment. "Standing right here, Stark." Tony turned from the large, clear screen of ultrasonic pictures he and Bruce were staring at to throw her a wink and a toothy grin.

"Look at this though," Bruce regained Tony's attention with the piece of paper he was holding, "her hCG levels are over 4000." Tony hummed in agreement, resting his chin between his thumb and forefinger. He turned back to the screen and enlarged one of the images, with a few more taps a yellow line appeared from one end of the blob to the other.

"Foetal height is approximately 16.5 centimeters."

Sick of all the medical jargon, Natasha slid from her perch on the hospital bed and stalked over to them. "So what does that mean exactly?" She crossed her arms over her chest with difficulty, considering the significant growth they had undergone in the past two weeks.

Tony had been the first to notice of course.

The two scientists looked at each other before turning to her. "What it means," Bruce started, "is that your rate of growth has accelerated to more than triple the rate of normal pregnancy."

"What Dr. Jekyll is trying to say is that you're now 20 weeks pregnant. And if you keep developing the way you are, then you could be having your baby in three months rather than nine."

Natasha pursed her lips for a moment, letting the information sink in. "And this is definitely not a natural phenomenon? You're sure there has never been another recorded case of this?"

Both men nodded. "Positive." Tony added.

Bruce changed the subject. "It doesn't matter how, or why, what matters now is that you and your baby remain safe. Tony and I are worried about the strain this accelerated pregnancy might put on your body. We're not sure if it will be able to handle such a fast development. We thought maybe outside help might be a good idea at this stage, obstetricians and-"

"No." Natasha cut him off, "No outside help. You and Stark are the only ones to know about this, understood?" Both men gulped at the fierce little redhead before them.

"Well, that's another thing," Tony ventured bravely, looking to Bruce for help but receiving none. "We think Fury should know. You can't be going on missions anymore, the one you were on last week was dangerous enough."

Banner interjected. "It's not just your health and safety on the line now, and now that you're starting to show..." He trailed off, but Natasha could fill in the blanks.

"I'm a liability."

Banner had the decency to look uncomfortable.

Natasha nodded, knowing they were right, but that was not a conversation she was looking forward to.

"Fine. He's coming down here though. I'm not walking around this building looking like this." She gestured towards her barely noticeable stomach. Stark laughed, "Hate to break it to you Toots, but you're only gonna get fatter." In reply, he received a death-inducing, ball-shrivelling glare.

Bruce just shook his head. The next few months were going to be interesting to say the least.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Loki was curled up in the red velvet chair, his foot dangled over the arm as he turned the page, deeply engrossed in his current book. The sunlight streamed in through the humungous windows, and the musty library echoed with silence and eons of knowledge.

Until someone almost pounded the door in with their incessant knocking.

"Brother!" Thor burst into the library without waiting for Loki's acknowledgement. His chainmail clanked loudly, echoing up into the high ceiling. Loki let his book fall forward, smacking himself in the forehead in annoyance.

"Brother, come spar with me. It has been far too long since you were home, and I seem to recall from our last tussle that you have become a little rusty."

Loki lowered his book, raising an eyebrow.

"Then your memory is poorer than a minotaur with brain damage. Leave me be, Thor."

"Come now Loki, 'tis a glorious day! You have not been outside ever since father let you-"

Thor didn't finish his sentence, distracted by having to duck the book that Loki had flung at his head.

"Do not mention him to me!" Loki roared, rising from the chair and hands tightening into fists as his anger got the better of him. The stunned look on Thor's face quickly cooled his rage and he flopped back down into the chair, annoyed that Thor had managed to break his composure with a few meaningless words.

Loki rubbed a hand over his face, closing his eyes to hide his brother's hurt look from his sight.

"Leave me be, Thor." Loki repeated.

"As you wish." Thor's voice was gruff, and without even looking, Loki could tell his brother was put out.

"I shall see you at the Solstice Feast tonight, mother is looking forward to you dining with us once again."

Loki didn't react, waiting until he heard the slam of the heavy oak doors before he stood to retrieve his book from across the room.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

The feast was the same as any other, the men drinking far too much mead and becoming louder and more boisterous as the night wore on. His father sat at the head of the table, with Frigga and Thor at either side of course. There was no room for a Frost Giant in their perfect royal family.

Thor and the Warriors Three told ridiculously embellished stories of fighting and hunting, while Odin clapped his son proudly on the shoulder and gave a toast to the future king.

Loki hated these feasts, but the dancing that came afterward he quite enjoyed. It was one of the few things that he was better at than his brother, and one of the even fewer things that endeared him to the Asgardian maidens.

Thor had two left feet and only a brave maiden with a high pain tolerance would dare dance with him, and out of the Warriors Three, only Frandal could dance.

Loki revelled in being the centre of attention for a change, as he twirled partner after partner into his arms and out again. Finally, one particular maiden caught his attention for the rest of the night.

"I have it." Amora whispered in his ear as he pulled her close and dipped her. "Hush now, such a beautiful dance is no place for business."

Amora giggled as he twirled her and pressed her body against his suggestively. "Then maybe we should retire to your bedroom to discuss _business_." Her voice dripped with want and she fluttered her eyelashes at him.

Loki considered the suggestion. How long had it been since he'd seen Natasha? Earth time moved differently to Asgardian time. He wondered if she missed him, or if she was glad for the riddance of the disturbance in her life. ' _Probably the latter'_ he thought bitterly, before banishing the redhead from his mind and turning his attention back to the busty blonde.

Amora let out a tiny moan as a predatory grin bloomed across his face. With Amora, he would not have to control his strength or hold back as he did with Natasha.

Humans were so fragile.

There were only a handful of couples left twirling to the music now. No one took much notice when Prince Loki took Amora by the hand and led her from the ballroom. As he led her down the candle-lit corridors to his bedchambers, Loki grinned to himself. He could _always_ make time for a little mischief.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

With a flick of his wrist, the bonds tying Amora's hands and ankles together disappeared, as did the rope with which he had strung her to his bedroom ceiling, but Loki did not bother to catch her as she collapsed on the floor, exhausted.

He sat on the bench at the end of his bed and his mouth twisted into a callous smile at the sight of her bruised bosoms heaving as she sucked in breath. He leant forward and ran a fingertip over her red raw backside, feeling the welts left on the heated skin. He took in the sight of her bruised and battered body with great enjoyment, but grew annoyed when she still had not opened her eyes.

"Amora," he called, "I believe the purpose of this visit was originally for business?" Her pale green eyes opened as he stood. He strode over to his armoire and pulled a clean tunic over his head; his leather pants had remained on.

Amora sat up and made complex movements with shaky hands, a bluish glow appearing between them. In a flash of light, a stone tablet and two coloured gems appeared in her hands and she held them out to him.

He caressed the cool stone with his fingertips and eyed the sparkling jewels, the promise of impending mischief caused a malicious grin to split his face. He vanished the items the same way Amora had made them appear, sending them to a rift in space which only he could access.

He turned back to Amora, who had begun to dress with shaking limbs. "The fakes are in place I assume?" He questioned. She gave him a wry smile, "Of course. No one will be able to tell the difference."

"Well done, my pet." He ran his thumb across a bruise on her neck and smiled. "Now to bed with you, we leave at dawn." An excited smirk crossed her face at his words, and she bowed happily to him before disappearing with a pop.

Loki flopped back onto his enormous canopy bed. While he was with Amora tonight, his thoughts had wandered to Natasha. He pondered how careful he was with Natasha, compared to his past lovers. He recalled the one time he had lost control of his strength; the one time hurting her had not been his intention.

Mortals were annoyingly fragile.

He contemplated these feelings, finally coming to the conclusion that if he were to seriously injure her during their lovemaking, it may actually cause him to feel...guilty.

Loki fell into a fitful sleep, plagued with nightmares in which he cradled a broken body with vibrant red hair in his arms and wept as his father shouted that he was a monster, and that everything he touched would decay and turn to ruin.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

A bolt of pain lanced through Natasha's abdomen as she slid off the hospital bed. Doctor Cowell tried to assist her but she brushed the woman off, giving Bruce and Tony a pointed look as she did so.

She had not wanted outside help but the two scientists had rather forcibly insisted on it. She had argued until Director Fury had ordered her to accept help and even went to the trouble of finding a highly trained, government employed obstetrician.

Dr. Cowell, ever the professional, continued as if nothing had happened. "Are you sure you don't want to know the sex?"

Natasha's mouth was a hard line. "Yes." Her words were clipped.

"Aw Nat, that's no fun." Stark pouted. "How am I supposed to know whether to paint its room pink or blue!"

Natasha rubbed at her belly with a frown. "For the last time Stark, the baby is not living here!"

Stark paused for a moment, but continued to ignore her warning, "So yellow then? Yellow's a neutral colour. Or would you prefer green?"

Natasha sighed. "Why can't things just be simple for once?" She muttered to herself. Apparently Bruce heard her though because he chuckled.

"How are your pain levels?" Damn doctors and their incessant questions.

"Negligent. I'm fine." She replied.

The doctor exhaled through her nose. Deciding she would get no more information from the mother-to-be, she turned to the other two. "If her pain gets much worse, which I'm assuming it will with the strain the rapid growth rate is putting on her body, then I think you should at least consider an elective caesarean-"

"No!" Natasha's head whipped around, cutting the doctor off. "No C-sections. No painkillers. I'm fine. The baby will be fine." Her voice was calm but her eyes shone with determination.

The doctor eyed her for a moment. "Alright then, I'll be back in a week to see how much further she has progressed." Bruce thanked her as she shouldered her large medical bag and left.

Natasha wandered over to the full length mirror in the corner and studied her belly from the side. She was still able to fit into her favourite pair of jeans but it now looked like she'd swallowed a whole rockmelon. In the reflection, she watched as Bruce and Tony came to stand on either side of her.

"Natasha," Bruce started gently, "maybe you should consider-"

"No."

Tony tried, "I can have a state-of-the-arc NICU installed, babies born at around 25 weeks still have a good chance-"

"No. No chances. I will carry this baby to term."

Tony looked to Bruce, then placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Natasha, that could kill you."

Natasha said nothing. She knew that.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

"Check." Bruce told her smugly. Natasha grinned. "Again." She demanded.

"You're not going to let me get back to work until you win, are you?" Bruce manoeuvred the chess pieces back to their original starting positions with an indulgent shake of his head.

Natasha wriggled back into the couch. Stark had updated her room with the latest medical equipment that Bruce and Dr. Cowell would need for her care. Natasha had been against his showy display of affluence and compassion at first, but she had to admit that it was quite handy to have everything in the one room so she didn't have to go wandering around the building looking like a whale all the time.

Bruce and Tony came to visit her often and, not that she would ever admit it, but she quite enjoyed the company. She was sure she would have gone insane if she had to spend the next two months cooped up in her bedroom with no missions to break the monogamy.

Director Fury had a hand in preventing her boredom as well. Though she couldn't go out in the field anymore, she was still a great spy and Fury allowed her to run the surveillance work on sensitive cases.

When she had first told him of the little kink in her mission, Fury had been more than a little put out by the fact that one of his best spies had been knocked up by a homicidal demi-god. But he had reacted better than she had expected, eventually deciding to put the old 'nature vs nurture' battle to the test and judge whether or not the kid had any powers after it was born, and if it could be an advantage to the organisation.

Unfortunately, the rest of the team had not handled the news quite so well.

" _We should just send it home with Thor next time he visits. It belongs with them, it can be their problem." Steve suggested, rubbing his chin in thought._

" _No, it is too big a risk to world security to allow a possible threat to fall into their hands." Agent Hill stated from her position at Fury's right hand. "We need to be able to keep an eye on it."_

" _It's still a child." Banner pleaded with them. "A child that will be born on American soil, and has a right to be free. You cannot deny that." There was silence for a moment as everyone considered the gravity of the situation._

_Tony piped up from his casual position on the sofa. "I agree with what Boss-man said earlier." He jabbed a thumb towards Director Fury. "Even if the kid does have powers, we'll have him from birth. We can bring him up right, raise him to be one of us. Imagine if we had powers that matched Loki's on our side. It would be a huge asset." Tony waved his arms around to illustrate his point._

" _We should just kill it." Clint's voice came from the dark corner where he had positioned himself after the rest had formed their little circle of discussion. The room became so deathly silent that everyone heard Natasha's sharp intake of breath._

" _Nat's never wanted a kid, and it's a monster, just like it's father." And with that, Clint stormed from the room._

_The Avengers revived their discussion after the shock of Clint's statement had passed, but Natasha did not listen to any more of it, she was already struggling enough as it was to keep it all together. She could practically feel the walls closing in around her, suffocating both her and her baby, keeping them trapped here forever like animals. Her breathing quickened, she had to get out of that room._

_Natasha stood suddenly, but froze as the debate fell silent once more and all eyes turned to her. Finding that her mouth had suddenly become the Sahara desert, she tried to lick her lips before muttering "Excuse me" and practically running for the door._

_Bruce found her an hour or so later on the rooftop garden, sitting by the waterfall. He could see the dried tear stains on her cheeks but said nothing._

" _Natasha? We're not going to hurt your baby or send it away. They've decided to keep you here, okay?"_

_She let the doctor help her up and lead her back to her room. "Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you or your baby." He muttered, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze._

Natasha's brooding was broken as Steve and Clint rushed past her door, all suited up for battle. Bruce was up and heading for the door to check it out, but was beaten to it by Iron Man.

"C'mon, Dr. Jekyll." Stark motioned hurriedly with one metal arm. "I think we might need you for this one."

"Why? What is it?" Natasha demanded, arms resting protectively over her stomach. Stark looked to her, eyes roaming over her protruding belly and anxious face. He paused a moment before deciding to tell her.

"It's Loki. He's back."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I hope you're all enjoying the story, I'd love to hear some reviews from people I really hope I'm doing okay, this is one of my first fanfictions so I was a bit nervous about posting this. Let me know what you think?  
> Much love!! xx


	11. The Return

* * *

_Darling, I forgive you, after all_   
_Anything is better than to be alone._   
_And in the end I guess I had to fall._   
_Always find my place among the ashes._

_~ "Lithium", Evanescence_

* * *

Natasha followed the helicarrier from Stark's Ferrari. After everyone had left, Natasha had rushed to find Pepper, who had gladly handed over the keys with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. Natasha would have to thank her later.

She pulled up at the Empire State University where the helicarrier had landed; thankfully it was the weekend so there should not be any civilians. The pain in her abdomen increased slightly as she jumped out of the car, but she ignored it and slipped her Glock into the waistband of her pants.

The sound of shattering glass drew her attention to a nearby building and she glanced up to see Stark being thrown out of a window on the top floor. He tumbled through the air for a moment before regaining control of his thrusters. Natasha heard him yell, "That's the second time!" before zooming back in through the same window.

She hurried towards the building and quickly raced up the stairs. She paused for a moment outside the door, getting her breath back and listening to the sounds of combat coming from inside.

As the next loud explosion sounded, she cracked open the door and slipped through.

Natasha found herself in the old archive part of the university library, hundreds of bookshelves formed floor-to-ceiling rows and a glass dome in the centre of the ceiling let in light.

At the other end of the room, she could see the neat rows of books had been destroyed by the fighting, shelves lay in splinters on the floor and torn out pages were scattered around them, like fallen snow.

Blue flashes of light from Stark and green flashes, which she assumed were from Loki, lit up the roof. From what she could see over the bookshelves, Clint was perched in the rafters and Bruce had obviously not yet hulked out.

She crept quickly along the back wall, the sounds of the struggle becoming louder as she got closer. She peered past a potted plant at the end of the aisle and surveyed the scene of destruction before her.

Stark's bolts of arc reactor energy sizzled from his palms, but Loki was deflecting them easily. Some kind of barrier or force field was preventing Clint's arrows from striking his target, and Rogers struggled on the ground as he was held captive by the pink beams of energy emanating from the woman standing by Loki's side.

She was very tall and slim; her bust spilled out the top of her dress and her long, perfect blonde hair flowed all the way down her back. Natasha had never seen her before, but she instantly disliked her.

Natasha thought fast, Loki and his blonde bimbo did not know she was here yet, she needed to use that to her advantage and attack from the shadows.

Natasha slid the gun out of her waistband and aimed it at the blonde. As soon as she fired, she ducked and rolled to find a new cover.

As she had suspected, the force field had stopped her bullet, but it had gotten the blonde's attention. She whirled around, eyes searching wildly for her attacker. She leapt toward the spot where Natasha had just been, but found nothing.

Natasha fired another shot, it barely missed her. Interestingly, it seemed to encounter no resistance, and Natasha realised that the force field must no longer be protecting her now that she had moved away from Loki.

Natasha aimed to fire again, but before she could blink, the blonde disappeared in front of her eyes with a pop. Natasha's eyes darted back and forth, searching carefully.

A sudden tap on her shoulder caused her to whirl around, only to come face to face with the blonde. As the woman raised her arm to strike, Natasha ducked and the blonde let out a shrill scream.

Natasha glanced up to see an arrow protruding from the woman's shoulder.

Looks like the Hawk had his eye on her.

Natasha retreated back into the shadows as the blonde wrenched out the arrow with a snarl and threw a bolt of pink lightning into the rafters in an attempt to dislodge Hawkeye.

The woman stalked up and down the rows of books and Natasha followed from a distance, gun in hand. When she turned away to peer around a corner, Natasha took the opportunity and fired three bullets at the woman. They all made contact.

The woman shrieked as blood seeped through her dress. Natasha stepped out from her hiding spot as she fired again. One bullet grazed her arm but the other missed as the woman disappeared once more.

And reappeared right in front of Natasha.

Natasha barely heard Clint scream her name before she felt the blonde behemoth's fist connect with her face, the force sending her flying back through the air and into the midst of the main fight.

Natasha braced herself, landing painfully on her shoulder but managing to roll through most of the impact. She flipped into a crouch, gripping her guns tightly as the blonde stalked menacingly towards her. Her face was contorted into a snarl and her hands began to glow with magic; Natasha's trigger finger tightened.

And then she was gone. Tackled to the ground by Steve.

Apparently he rather resented being tied down with pink magic.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Bruce was starting to turn a little green. And not in a sickly way. She had to stop this fight, now.

Standing, she walked out to where Loki and Iron Man were exchanging blows. "Loki, stop this!" She shouted, aiming her guns at his head.

"Ah, the little spider returns. I thought you were missing one from your group of misfits." He grinned as he dodged Stark's blast of energy and sent out his own. The snake-like coil wrapped around the neck of Stark's suit and, with a flick of his hand, Loki sent Stark flying back into Bruce.

Unfortunately, this made Banner rather mad. With a roar, he started to shift and change, growing in size.

Natasha needed to diffuse the situation. Her mind raced, _'He doesn't know, he's pretending like we don't know each other, he doesn't know that they know.'_ Well, now was as good a time as any. Hopefully, it would stun him enough that they could detain him and calm Banner.

Doubt flashed briefly through her mind as she wondered if maybe Loki wouldn't even care at all. But she drew a deep breath, steeling herself, and caught Loki's eye.

"Loki! I'm pregnant!"

The world seemed to slow and sound grew dull. She could barely hear Stark shouting at Bruce, or Steve and the woman throwing each other through bookshelves.

Loki froze, his eyes widened and his lips parted slightly. Her own eyes were wide as she waited for his reaction. It seemed like an eternity before his face softened and he stepped cautiously towards her.

"Natasha." He called gently.

They were barely a meter apart when someone screamed, "Look out!" and Natasha was thrown to the floor as a giant green fist came down on top of her lover.

"NO!" Natasha screamed, but there was nothing she could do to stop him.

The Hulk pounded him, throwing him into walls and floors – whatever was closest.

"Bruce, Bruce! Stop, look at me!" She tried to get his attention but it was no use.

Everyone else was frozen, even Steve and the blonde had stopped fighting to watch in horror as the Hulk splattered Loki's blood across the walls and floor and beat him to a bloody pulp on the ground.

They stared in shock as the Hulk stood over the crumpled form, chest heaving. He began to shrink down to normal size as he calmed, the threat eliminated.

A naked Bruce stumbled behind a pot plant for cover, eyes wide and pleading with her, "Natasha. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to… I couldn't stop." But Natasha didn't hear him.

Her guns clattered to the ground and she stumbled dazedly towards the bloody mess on the floor. Limbs lay at unnatural angles and his skull was caved in, a pool of blood seeped out from beneath him and slowly oozed across the floor towards her boots.

The silence was deafening.

"I must say, I'm rather glad that wasn't me."

His voice.

She spun on her heel, almost giving herself whiplash. Loki leant against the back wall nonchalantly, not a scratch on him. She looked back to the bloodied corpse on the floor and watched as the illusion shimmered and disappeared.

Loki grinned mischievously at her and relief flooded through her, making her feel light-headed. She started towards him, breaking out into a run as her heart soared.

And she punched him in the face.

"Bastard." She muttered, but still he grinned at her through bloody teeth. At least he had the decency to look sheepish.

Everyone was still kind of frozen, stunned at first by the apparent death of a god, then unsure as to whether there was still a fight occurring.

Apparently Clint regained his senses first, as an arrow lodged itself in Loki's chest.

He grunted in pain and turned away from her. Clint swung down from the rafters with rage painting his features, "GET AWAY FROM HER YOU MONSTER!"

A high-pitched shriek pierced the air as pink lightning shot from the blonde's fingers and threw Clint, Tony and Steve back against the wall. She then turned to Natasha, who's eyes flitted to her gun just a few feet away, and she prepared to make a dash for it.

But before the two could engage, Loki stood and stepped in front of her. "No, Amora." He commanded, pulling the arrow from his chest and wiping the blood that he had coughed up from his chin with the back of his hand.

The woman seemed affronted. "Loki? What is the meaning of this?" She demanded.

Loki said nothing, merely regarded her with cool disinterest, which seemed to only anger the woman more. Tony and Steve stood and watched with interest as the woman's face twisted into a snarl as realisation dawned. Luckily, Clint had been knocked unconscious or he probably would have gone straight back to fighting.

"Oh I see." The blonde spat. "This is the little mortal whore that you've been sneaking away to visit all the time, isn't it?"

Loki's face remained expressionless as usual, but Natasha noticed his fists were clenched at his sides. Natasha snorted and everyone turned to stare at her. She shrugged and explained, eyeing the blonde disdainfully, "Well, maybe if you put your tits back in, then you could call me a whore."

A quiet, strangled noise made Natasha look up at Loki, and she was quite surprised to see it looked like he was holding back laughter.

The blonde, on the other hand, was not amused. She was literally shaking with rage, and pink energy crackled around her.

"Those nights I came to entertain you, and you turned me down because you were with _her_?!" She pointed a clawed finger at Natasha.

"Wow, who knew. Turns out Reindeer Games is a real lady-killer." Tony commented to Steve, who snorted.

"Enough Amora, your presence is no longer needed." Loki waved her off.

She bristled, suddenly turning to attack and diving toward Natasha. But before anyone could react, Loki stepped in front of her and extended his arm.

Amora froze as suddenly as if Loki had encased her in ice. Her eyes were wide and her lips parted slightly as she gazed up at Loki, who now practically _glowed_ with rage and power.

If anyone had doubted that Loki was of royal blood before, they certainly did not now.

"You dare disobey me?" His voice boomed and his power and energy permeated the air around him like an aura.

Amora seemed to come to her senses and dropped to her knees in front of him, bowing her head low. "Please forgive me for my insolence, my Prince, I lost myself."

Loki's face was hard and impassive as he glared down at her, but when he spoke next, his voice was far softer.

"Breyting á áformum." He spoke in a strange, melodic language that none of them understood. "Go home, Amora."

Amora gazed up at him as he gave his final command, trying to decipher his intentions. She bowed her head once more, and with a loud pop, she disappeared.

There was a long moment of shocked and bewildered silence. Tony, of course, was the first to break it.

"So, do all the chicks on Asgard look like that?"

Loki smirked, but when he did not answer the question, Tony's eyebrows shot up to his hairline and he turned excitedly to Steve, who merely shook his head in exasperation.

"So, are you going to arrest me or not?" Loki broke the silence again and held out his wrists together to demonstrate.

"This has been a weird day." Steve muttered as he removed the handcuffs from his belt and moved to stand before the demi-god.

"So you're just handing yourself over? Willingly?" Steve enquired suspiciously as he tightened the reinforced metal around Loki's wrists.

"Clearly." Loki replied jovially as he held up his hands and jingled the metal chain to illustrate his point.

By the wall, Clint was beginning to rouse as Tony attempted to wake him.

"But why? Why are you doing this?" Steve insisted.

Suddenly, Natasha grunted and clutched her stomach as a flash of pain sliced through her abdomen. Tony left Clint and rushed to aid Natasha. Loki looked on solemnly, but didn't answer the captain.

"Anyone have spare pants?" Bruce squeaked, his cheeks bright red, but no one heard him.

He glanced warily at the leaves of the banana plant that stood next to him.

He sighed.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Director Fury greeted the Avengers and their captive as they marched into Stark Tower. Glaring at the demi-god with his one good eye, he then motioned to the SHIELD operatives around him, who promptly took Loki from the custody of Rogers and Hawkeye (who was severely pissed that he had missed his chance to beat up the god due to his unconsciousness), cuffed him with the glowing magic-restricting shackles that had detained him last time he was here, and proceeded to march him to his cell.

Fury then directed his, well, _fury_ , to the rest of the group.

"So, the other one got away then?" His tone was calm but his expression was furious.

"Well, to be fair," Tony piped up. "Loki actually sent her all the way back to Asgard or whatever, so technically, we're good." Tony gave the Director the thumbs up but Fury merely glared at the offending appendage as though he could make it wither and die with his mind. "And you just believed him?" Fury raised an eyebrow. "Plus you destroyed an entire university building."

"Well, last time it was the whole city, so I'd consider this one a win." Stark muttered under his breath.

"And you," Fury turned his gaze to Natasha, "You shouldn't even be out of bed." Natasha opened her mouth to argue but, upon failing to find a good enough excuse, she merely muttered, "Yes, sir" and slunk off back to her bedroom like a chastised dog with its tail between its legs.

Natasha lay in her king sized bed, trying to ignore the occasional stabs of pain that radiated from her abdomen.

She wondered what they would do with Loki now, whether she would be able to talk to him, to ask all her questions. She wondered what he was doing at the University in the first place, whether he was plotting another world domination scheme.

She wondered what he thought about their child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Did I scare anyone there for a minute? Haha don't worry guys, I wouldn't kill Loki off that easily *cue evil laugh*
> 
> And 'Breyting á áformum' means 'change of plans', well according to Google translate anyway.


	12. The Cell

* * *

_You should have known_   
_The price of evil_   
_And it hurts to know_   
_That you belong here_

_~ "Nightmare", Avenged Sevenfold_

* * *

She was hot.

She kicked the bed covers off her in annoyance.

She was cold.

She hurriedly pulled the covers up to her nose.

She was dead tired, but her body would not let her sleep. The night dragged on this way; Natasha would doze off into a fitful sleep and then wake just as suddenly. It was in the wee hours of the morning that she realised she had a fever.

Deciding she would get no more sleep, Natasha rugged up and tried to walk it off. The normally bright and friendly corridors of Stark Tower were eerily quiet and dim, the few beams of moonlight that permeated the darkness only caused her already pale skin to look sickly.

Not having paid much attention to where she was going, Natasha was surprised to find her feet had taken her to the detainment cells. Although, Natasha thought, maybe it shouldn't be such a surprise; she did have so many questions she wanted answers to.

Yet as she hesitantly stood in front of the door to his cell, she couldn't think of a single one.

She stood there for a moment, debating with herself. She almost turned to leave when he spoke.

"Do come in Natasha. I wouldn't want you to catch a, what do you call it? A cold?"

Composing her features into a look of indifference, Natasha pressed her palm to the Biopad and the heavy steel door slid open with a whoosh.

He lay along the steel bench on the far wall, arms folded under his head and one leg crossed over a bent knee. He looked for all the world as if the uncomfortably hard, cold, dark cell did not bother him one bit. However, Natasha knew that was only how he wanted to appear.

She knew he was waiting for her to speak, to demand answers off him, to yell and berate him for what he had done, for leaving her. Instead, she waited.

At first he played her game, neither willing to admit defeat and speak first. Then suddenly he sighed, sat up and faced her. The mask of indifference Loki constantly wore slipped – only for a moment, but it was enough for her to notice the concern in his eyes.

"You should sit." He told her.

She sat on the end of the bench across from him, still refusing to speak. Loki leant back against the wall and attempted to cross his arms over his chest. Upon realising that his hands were still cuffed, he dropped them dejectedly into his lap.

Finally, he broke the silence.

"Well, well, lucky you, bestowed with the _honour_ of carrying the bastard child of Loki, God of Evil." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

Natasha's eyebrow twitched at the 'bastard child' comment. She would have thought they had bigger things to discuss other than the fact that the child was conceived out of wedlock.

Natasha noted the small changes in Loki's features carefully in the dim light. If she were not trained to pick up the tiniest detail, she would have missed the brief flickers of anger and resentment, followed by grief and pain that flitted across Loki's face before his mask was once again replaced.

Time passed in silence, before he asked quietly, "Do you wish for a girl or a boy?" She remained silent, and Loki thought she intended to go their entire encounter without speaking, when she finally answered.

"Either." She told him. "Just as long as it's happy and healthy."

Loki bowed his head to hide the flicker of a smile that crossed his face. Natasha caught it anyway.

She decided it was time to tackle the numerous elephants in the room. "What are you up to Loki?"

A brief smirk crossed his face as he leant back against the wall. "Whatever do you mean?"

"You know what I mean."

Loki shrugged. "Perhaps. But the truth is often the simplest answer. Perhaps there is nothing." He evaded.

"It's never nothing with you."

He grinned wickedly at that.

Natasha pursed her lips and tried a different tact. "Who's the girl?"

At this, Loki smirked. "Ah yes, Amora the Enchantress. She may fail to see the bigger picture at times, but her powers are useful."

Natasha snorted condescendingly before she could stop herself, and Loki grinned mischievously. "Jealous are we, little spider?"

Natasha ignored him and tried to prod further.

"So there's a bigger picture? And that would involve…?"

Loki smiled at her, almost sadly. "Natasha, I do not believe these are the questions you came down here to ask."

Natasha frowned and crossed her arms. She hated it when he was right.

"Why did you leave?" She finally asked.

Loki leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his hands droop between them.

"I have always found that plans are useless, but planning is indispensable. Besides, did it not make my leaving a little easier? The fact that you hate me a little more?"

He glanced up then, and their eyes met. He seemed smug, awaiting an answer that he thought he already knew. Natasha's breath caught in her throat and she felt as if a tight band was constricting around her chest. So many unsaid things seemed to hang in that moment. Emerald and sapphire clashed and the world stopped for a moment, holding its breath as she licked her dry lips and tried to find her voice.

"I don't hate you." Her voice was tiny, barely audible, but he heard it, and his face fell into confusion, baffled by her answer.

He dropped his gaze to the floor and the spell was broken. "Sentiment." She heard him mutter, and Natasha struggled to control her erratic heartbeat.

After a moment, he continued, "I can't tell you anything. Not now. Not yet. However, the one thing I do want you to know is that I never meant for this to happen." He looked into her eyes once again, trying to convey his sincerity.

"I would never wish that upon anyone." He mumbled quietly, glancing pointedly at her swollen stomach.

Natasha frowned at that, but Loki looked so lost in his thoughts, staring at the ground between his feet, that she didn't push the issue. They lapsed into silence once again and Natasha felt a strange surge of disappointment.

Natasha felt drowsy, her heart still pounded loudly in her ears, she felt hot and stuffy and she closed her eyes to stop her head from spinning.

"You're sweating." Loki commented.

She glared at him. "Well, if it wasn't so damn hot in here." She complained.

Loki rose from his seat then, moving to stand in front of her. Natasha tensed, ready to leap up and bolt for the door. Loki frowned down at her.

"Natasha," She felt a shiver run up her spine at the gentle way he called her name, "the room's temperature is quite cool." He gave her a strange look. "I believe you are ill."

He gingerly sat down next to her, gauging her reaction. She rubbed at her tired eyes. "Perhaps you should scurry back to bed, little spider." He smirked, but she shook her head.

"Can't sleep. Too hot."

Loki's brows knit together, thinking for a moment before coming to a decision. "I may be able to help with that. Lie down." He ordered, gesturing at his lap. She gave him a look that very clearly asked if he was crazy, but he merely waved at her impatiently.

Natasha laid her head on his thigh gingerly, eyeing him the entire time. "Now, close your eyes." He instructed.

She glared at him.

He grinned, holding up his hands, palms face up in surrender. "No mischief. Promise." Reluctantly, she closed her eyes. They had, after all, been in more intimate positions then this.

Cold suddenly encompassed her heated forehead and she gasped, eyes shooting open. Loki clucked his tongue at her, "Uh-uh, no peeking."

She closed her eyes again just to feel the cool relief. Icy fingers brushed her hairline, stroking her forehead and temples. The relief from the oppressive heat of her body was instantaneous, and Natasha felt a sense of calm wash over her as cool fingertips brushed the sweat from her face and neck.

Cool hands trailed down her chest and back of her neck, before making their way back up to her forehead.

Natasha felt her heart rate slow and her breathing deepen, and before she realised what she was doing, or could stop herself, she had fallen soundly asleep in Loki's cool embrace.

She never even saw the genuine smile that ever so slightly graced the features of the God of Lies.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Natasha woke as her name was called in that enthralling, ethereal accent, "Natasha. I think it's time you return to your room little spider, before your friends become suspicious."

She sat up and rubbed her bleary eyes. She could feel his eyes boring into her as she stood and stretched. She knew he was searching for a reaction to her moment of weakness, but she would not give him one.

She headed for the door, fighting the urge to look back, but lost. Blue eyes collided with bright green, and Natasha was startled by how clear and open his emerald eyes were, they seemed to see right through her, piercing all her carefully constructed walls and defences, leaving her vulnerable.

She turned and opened the door before he could captivate her any more.

Natasha shuffled slowly up the stairs from the basement, trying to decipher the perplexing paradox that is Loki. She wandered back up to her room to shower and dress, throwing on the baggiest shirt she could find in an attempt to hide the bulge of her stomach.

Feeling much better after her temperature-regulated sleep, Natasha decided she would be productive today and see how Clint was doing with the Sawfford cartel case.

However, when she got to the Communications room, Clint was nowhere to be found.

She frowned, he was supposed to report for duty at 0900 hours, and Clint was rarely ever late. "JARVIS," she called out to the ever-present AI, "Can you locate Agent Barton?"

"Of course, Miss Romanov," came JARVIS' automated voice, "He appears to be on the basement levels, Detainment cell number 214." Natasha felt her stomach drop and her blood run cold.

She knew that cell number as she was there only an hour ago. She had a bad feeling about this.

Racing down the corridor as fast as her distorted sense of balance would allow, she realised as soon as she got on the elevator that someone had pushed the button from the penthouse as the lift continued upwards instead of down.

Stark's floor.

She grit her teeth, hands balling into fists at her side. "Dammit Stark!" She muttered angrily to herself. She was going to kill him when he stepped foot on this lift.

The ridiculous elevator music only fuelled her rage. The consecutive numbers on the digital display above the door ticked up slowly, and her ire rose with it. As the numbers reached 30, she glared at the door, waiting for it to open so she could get her hands on the megalomaniac, egotistical bastard.

"Whoa!" Tony threw his hands up as if in self-defence as soon as he saw her. "What crawled up your ass and died?"

She rolled her eyes at him, yanking him into the lift and bashing the button for the basement again.

"Hey babe, easy on the merchandise."

She stopped pounding the defenceless button and turned her anger towards him instead. "I need to get to the basement, _now_." If looks could kill, Tony' great-grandchildren would be dead.

But, as always, Stark could not help himself.

"Off to see lover boy?" He waggled his eyebrows at her. Natasha grit her teeth so hard she swore she heard a tooth crack. She had never wanted to hit someone so much in her life.

"Clint is down there." She caught Tony's eye, trying to convey the seriousness of the situation. "And he didn't report in on the Sawfford case this morning."

Suddenly, all humour evaporated from Stark's face as he realised what she was implying. He glanced toward the ceiling. "JARVIS, initiate override sequence 81218, destination basement."

"You may want to hold on to something." He told her, stepping back himself and grabbing a hold of the metal bar below the mirror. She followed suit warily.

The elevator made a clanging sound, then suddenly it fell, dropping through the floors like a rock. The numbers on the display flashed past faster than Natasha could read them. The lift then slowed suddenly, before coming to a complete stop.

"Override complete." Announced the mechanical voice that was JARVIS.

Natasha's stomach churned violently – it seemed the baby did not agree with falling thirty stories.

Tony extended a hand to steady her but she brushed him off, muttering "You could have warned me." She heard Stark laugh sheepishly as she exited the lift.

Gathering her bearings, she hurried down the corridor, turning the corner and….she froze.

Clint strode down the hallway towards her, hands in his pockets and whistling a tune under his breath. He did not make eye contact with her, did not acknowledge her at all. But Natasha swore she saw him smirk as he passed her by, and suddenly her heart was in her throat, filling her with cold dread.

Natasha suddenly wondered how much force and sadistic intent it would take to torture a god.

"Nat." Stark's voice called out from behind her as he caught up, breaking her from her reverie.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, concern causing his brows to knit together, but she shook him off and doubled her speed down the hall. As she half ran down the stairs to the cell block, Iron Man at her heels, she prayed to a god she didn't believe in that she would not be too late.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

"Tell me what you're planning Loki." Clint spat menacingly.

Loki smirked up at the archer, willing himself to appear unruffled even though he was being cooked from all sides and the heat was starting to make him feel woozy. He felt as if he had been shoved in a volcano of Muspelheim, and he glared at the industrial sized heaters that surrounded him, wishing he could make them melt with his mind.

Loki cocked his head to the side, peering up at the mortal as if trying to decide if he was worthy of an answer. He said nothing however, not being able to concentrate on coming up with a witty remark as sweat dripped down his neck and dampened his chest.

He didn't know how they found out about his weakness for heat, he could only assume Thor must have told someone something in passing and SHIELD had kept this information for just this occasion.

He could feel his lungs burning as he struggled to breathe, the laughing and jeering of his torturers were drowned out by the ringing in his ears. If he were honest with himself, he had not predicted this when he willingly turned himself over to the Avengers.

The heat clouded his mind and weakened him tremendously; he could not even conjure the strength to summon his magic and break free of these chains and smite his captors.

The archer's face steadily grew red with anger as Loki ignored him. He bared his teeth at the bound demi-god and balled his fists. Loki prepared himself for the blow, but instead the disgraced Avenger turned to his leering comrades.

"Bring out the thumbscrew." Agent Barton crossed his arms over his chest and sneered sadistically at the captive god as his henchmen carried over a strange metallic device. Barton stared him down, and Loki knew he hoped to see a flicker of fear, anger, anything, in his eyes. But Loki's face remained in that same expressionless mask, smug defiance shining in his eyes, as if the agent and his cronies were nothing more than bugs to be crushed under his boot.

Barton snarled at Loki's lack of reaction. He turned on his heels and stormed out the door, leaving the chained god at the mercy of a dozen sneering, inferior, barbaric mortals.

They converged on him, leering and spitting insults. One genius decided to punch him in the face and, though he felt his lip split, he highly suspected the pathetic mortal had broken his hand as the imbecile howled and clutched the appendage.

They subdued him; he could feel a number of them kneeling on his back and legs, forcing him to the ground as others pinned his arms. He felt as they placed the strange device against his left hand, the cool metal actually soothing to his burning skin.

Suddenly he felt a pressure around his middle finger. The pressure began to increase to the point of pain, and Loki realised they intended to break his fingers.

Could these barbaric mortals not be any more imaginative with their tortures? Idly, Loki wondered what would break first, the vice or his finger?

He soon had his answer as a sickening crack resounded, accompanied by an intense bolt of pain that lanced up his arm. Loki fought to keep his expression neutral and was rewarded when the buffoons' triumphant faces turned to disappointment at his lack of reaction.

They moved on.

Another snap, more dissatisfied faces.

Loki was almost tempted to laugh, really. These fools know nothing of torture. He'd had snake venom repeatedly burn out his heart, he'd had his mouth sewn shut by sausage-fingered dwarfs – he could handle a few broken fingers.

The heat was actually the worst part. It was like being slowly crushed by Surtr's flaming fist, his fire sucking every last piece of moisture from his bones and taking his magic with it.

He felt the vice close around his index finger and braced himself for the pain. Through the crack of bone he heard the door open, but could not see his new spectator through the darkness and his heat-clouded eyes.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" A voice screamed in rage. A voice that he knew very well.

Loki couldn't help himself, he laughed. His split lip reopened and warm blood trickled down his chin but he didn't care.

A few of the agents closest to him looked at him like he was crazy. Until she started yelling, then they all looked quite afraid.

"Out! Everybody out! You're all on report. I'll have you all sorting paper clips and changing diapers in Detention for the Criminally Insane before the day is out! And if I ever see your faces again, I'll shove a bullet so far up your ass that you'll be spitting out metal!"

The tough, burly agents could not get out of his cell fast enough, piling up at the door like a cartoon as they all struggled to get as far away from the fuming redhead as possible.

Loki only laughed harder.

Natasha and Tony exchanged glances. She made her way cautiously over to the hysterical demi-god, reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder and frowning when she felt the temperature of his skin.

"You're burning up." She muttered. Natasha turned back to Tony, "Help me with his chains, will you?" She half whispered.

Loki's laughter subsided then, eyelids fluttering closed to shut out the spinning room. He began to hum, a strange but gentle tune that she didn't know, and Natasha shot him an odd look.

"Either he's delirious with pain or just plain crazy." Stark muttered as he set to work on the shackles. She ignored him, staring at Loki's mangled hand instead.

"They broke his fingers." She whispered. "All of them." And for once, Stark had no witty reply.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Natasha opened the door to her bedroom as Loki and Stark followed her in. The demi-god had one arm wrapped around Tony's shoulders, his other broken hand clutched close to his chest.

Loki pushed past Stark, stumbling towards the bathroom.

"Cold." He muttered as he passed Natasha. The two Avengers gave him a strange look before Natasha turned to give Tony his orders.

"I want the names of all those agents. Then find Fury and call a meeting in the conference room. And I need Bruce and the Medkit from his lab – his hand will need treatment."

"Sure thing." Was all Stark replied, his eyes sliding distractedly to the closed bathroom door as they heard the shower turn on. He left, shutting her door behind him.

Natasha sighed lightly, rubbing a hand over her face before moving to knock gently on the bathroom door. She called out to Loki but received no answer. She tried the door handle and, finding it unlocked, stepped into the tiled bathroom.

Loki was huddled against the shower wall, water pelting at his back. He had stripped off his shirt, but had not even taken off his pants and boots, and she could see the multitude of angry scars which criss-crossed his back, which meant he was not able to use his magic to hide them.

"Loki?" She called, stepping around the puddle that was slowly forming at the open shower door. "Loki, I need to see your hand." She told him, rolling up her sleeves so they wouldn't get wet and reaching for him.

As her hand passed through the water she snatched it back with a gasp, "That's freezing!"

Loki turned to face her finally, shaking his head, "No," he muttered, "not cold, need ice."

Natasha frowned, "Like an ice bath?" Loki hesitated before nodding, his eyes wide and innocent looking for a change. It freaked her out a bit.

She ran him a bath anyway, leaving briefly to raid the kitchen for ice.

He stepped out of the shower, clumsily kicking his boots off but not bothering with his pants as he slipped straight into the freezing water.

She watched him worriedly as he closed his eyes and sunk beneath the water's icy surface for a moment. He resurfaced and let his head fall back against the porcelain.

She studied the look of pain and determination on his face carefully, her eyes roaming down his neck, following the bright blue veins that were now in stark contrast to his pale skin. She noticed more veins straining against the skin of his arm, and the nail-beds of his elegant fingers were tinged blue.

"Loki, it's too cold, you need to get out." She noted worriedly that his lips were also starting to turn blue.

"No, I am fine – but, Natasha, you need to leave." He told her, his eyes still closed.

"What?" She frowned in confusion, "Loki, you'll freeze."

He refused to look at her, eyes squeezed shut. "Leave, Natasha." He commanded, and when she didn't move he raised his voice, "Get out!"

His eyes flew open as he shouted and she gasped. His eyes were blood red.

She stood and left, glancing over her shoulder before shutting the door.

She wandered idly over to her bed and sat down on the edge, wondering what exactly was going on in her bathroom.


	13. The Reunion

* * *

_Found my faith living in sin, I'm no hero, guilty as charged,_  
 _I'm a whore, a birth of broken dreams,_  
 _This simple answer is never what it seems_

_~ "Search and Destroy", 30 Seconds to Mars_

* * *

Loki sauntered out of her bathroom and Natasha's mouth went dry.

He had a towel slung haphazardly around his hips and was drying his dripping hair with another. She had to admit, she rather liked the way his usually-perfect black hair now flopped haphazardly into his eyes, the ends long enough to cling wetly to his shoulders; it made him look younger, and somehow less burdened by life.

His shattered hand appeared to be fully mended and functioning. His body was covered in a wet sheen from the bath and droplets of water raced down his torso and traced over the contours of perfectly carved abs. His well-defined chest gleamed and the lean muscles in his arm bulged as he rubbed the towel over his head.

Absently, Natasha noticed that his body was scarless, which meant he had regained his magic.

Natasha was, unfortunately, pulled from eye-fucking the god when she heard Bruce's voice.

"Natasha, I have the medkit you asked…oh." He stuttered to a stop as he spotted the half-naked god standing in the centre of her bedroom. "I'll um, come back…later." Banner's cheeks were beetroot-red and he made to leave but Loki stopped him.

"No need, Dr. Banner." He called, and with a wave of his hand, he was fully dressed again. "Though as you can see, my hand is perfectly fine now." He flexed it as proof.

"Ah, well then. Good." Bruce muttered, still a little flustered.

He turned to address Natasha. "Everyone is gathering in the conference room like you asked."

She nodded, her expression hard but she allowed Banner a small smile. "Thank you, Bruce." He made to leave but paused and turned back to Loki.

"Also um, I'm sorry for, y'know, killing fake-you, earlier."

Loki smirked, eyes dancing with humour. "I am rather glad that I managed to outsmart the beast this time." Bruce smiled shyly, unsure what to say, then disappeared down the hallway.

Natasha turned to Loki. She appraised him silently, "They're meeting right now to discuss what to do with you. You came here for a reason, and I have to believe that it wasn't malicious. If we go to the meeting, will you talk?"

He regarded her, and their eyes locked for a moment as he considered his answer.

"Yes." He finally replied. Satisfied, she nodded once.

Natasha knew he was up to something, but he was different to the Loki that came to rule the world and unleash aliens on the city. He was less hostile and more calm, calculating. He was looking for something, and Natasha was going to find out what.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

"Well, well isn't this a cosy little reunion." Natasha shot Loki a sharp look as they entered the conference room, but he merely smiled mischievously back.

The other Avengers looked up as they walked in.

"Um, isn't anyone else slightly concerned that the evil, mass-murdering god is walking around undetained?" Stark looked around for support. Clint nodded in agreement and Steve frowned.

"He is no longer our prisoner." Natasha said sternly, daring anyone to defy her. "Loki has turned himself in willingly and, despite being _tortured_ ," she spat, glaring daggers at Clint, "he has agreed to cooperate."

Everyone in the room turned to look at Clint for a moment. Clint became flustered under the looks of shock and a little disappointment from his teammates and lashed out at Natasha.

"And why should we believe anything either of you say?" Their eyes met and he stared her down. "You've been compromised." Natasha grit her teeth, preparing to chew Clint out, but someone beat her to it.

"I assure you, Agent Barton, that Miss Romanov's mind, thoughts, and fantasies are completely her own." Loki stepped between her and Clint, and Natasha detected more than a hint of malice in his voice.

Clint's face was painted with rage, "You expect us to believe you? You're the God of Lies! You're a mind-controlling mass-murderer – everyone else may have forgotten about that but I never will!"

Loki's face momentarily turned dark. "I do not believe anyone has forgotten about that."

Everyone was on high alert as the tension between the two became palpable.

Luckily, it was disrupted by Fury before things escalated.

"Hope you guys didn't start without us." Nick Fury marched into the room, trailed by Maria Hill and, to everyone's surprise, Thor.

"Brother!" Though he did not shout, his deep voice filled the room. Thor clasped Loki by the shoulders and shook him as a child would a doll. "Brother, what madness are you concocting now?" He demanded.

Various smirks were seen around the room and even Natasha struggled to keep a blank face at the bewildered and slightly disdainful expression on Loki's face as his brother practically picked him up by the shoulders. Clint slumped back into the corner.

"Thor, do control yourself." Loki berated, and Thor released his brother and stepped back dejectedly. "What tidings of Asgard?" Loki questioned.

"Asgard is well brother, although mother was concerned that you and the Enchantress had eloped together!" She noticed Loki's nose wrinkle in distaste.

Suddenly a flash of pain lanced through her stomach and Natasha grunted softly and rubbed her belly. She didn't think anyone had noticed, but Loki must have as he started towards her, expression concerned.

However, his path was blocked by Clint.

"Don't you go anywhere near her." He hissed, and the two once again returned to their stare-off.

"Okay, let's everybody take a deep breath." Steve held his hands up in a calming motion but was ignored.

"Yeah Fury, muzzle your dog, will you?" Stark waved his hand in Clint's direction. "He's already tortured one person today. Or was that on your orders?" Stark raised an eyebrow at the Director and crossed his arms. Torture was a sensitive issue for Tony.

Hill piped up, "Whether or not they were the Director's orders, you have no authority to question them, Stark."

Thor's voice boomed over everyone, "Torture? What is this speak of torture? Is this how one of Asgard is treated in this realm?!"

Steve interjected, "Not that I condone torture, but the guy is obviously hiding something."

On the other side of the table, Loki and Clint started up again. "If you touch one hair on her head…"

"You'll do _what_ , Agent Barton?"

Everyone's voices melded together until the room was filled with a crescendo of shouting and fighting. Natasha rubbed her forehead in exasperation.

This is one of the reasons she preferred working alone. And not with men.

"Guys." She tried to get their attention but was ignored.

"Guys!" She sighed, frustrated, and slammed her fist down on the conference table and bellowed, "HEY! SHUT UP!"

The silence was instantaneous as all eyes turned to her.

"Look, Loki has agreed to _willingly_ ," she glanced pointedly at Clint, "share information. He is not a threat to us, this time, so I suggest we all listen to what he has to say, then decide what to do with him, okay?" She crossed her arms over her chest, daring anyone to oppose her.

Slowly, they began to take their seats. She glanced over at Loki and was surprised to find a glint of humour in his eyes as he watched her take her own seat on the left corner.

"You say you're of no threat," Fury questioned as he took his seat at the head of the table, "so then, why are you here?"

Loki strode to the other end of the table and stood behind the chair, hands clasped behind his back. He glanced at each of them, eyes lingering on Natasha, before beginning his tale.

"The Chitauri that accompanied me the last time I was on Midgard was but a squadron in their army." He paused as he let that sink in.

Stark let out a low whistle.

"The being who controls the Chitauri is named Thanos."

Thor's brows furrowed in confusion. "Thanos the Mad Titan? I thought he was merely a story mother told us as children."

"I can assure you, he is very real." Loki replied darkly. "His only goal is total and utter destruction of the universe and all Nine Realms. To achieve this, he is after the Infinity Gauntlet, an ancient device built to house and augment the Infinity Gems. There are six Gems which each represent a different facet of the universe – space, time, reality, power, mind and soul."

"But the Gems and the Gauntlet are currently locked in father's vault, brother." Thor laughed. "Thanos would not dare attempt to challenge the might of Asgard!" He beamed as if he had just solved all their problems.

"Don't be a fool, Thor. I have seen Thanos' determination first-hand and felt his wrath. He will stop at nothing to get what he wants. And, let's not forget that you, in all your wisdom and foresight, have rendered the Destroyer to a pile of rubble. What protects the vault now? A handful of guards?"

Thor looked offended, "Guards of Asgard!" he declared, but Loki shook his head.

"He will come, Thor, and he will take what he wants."

He turned to face the rest of them, "There is only one thing that can stop Thanos, and that is the Tablets of Life, Death and Chaos. Only with these three Tablets combined will I have the power to destroy Thanos and send him once and for all to Niflheim."

"Okay, so let me get this straight, this Thanos guys has all the power of the universe in a glove and you'll have, what, three rocks? Is that about right?" Stark questioned sarcastically.

Loki smirked. "Excellent question, Man of Iron. Thanos will only hold the power of the universe if he places _all_ six gems into the Gauntlet."

Thor rubbed at the stubble on his chin. "But brother, if Thanos indeed succeeds in stealing the Gauntlet from father's vault, then he will also have all the gems."

To everyone's surprise, Loki abruptly laughed. "Did you honestly think I sat meekly in my cell on Asgard for all those months, _brother_? No, I knew what was coming and I prepared for it. With the help of Amora the Enchantress, I secretly switched one of the gems and replaced it with a fake. When Thanos gets his hands on the Gauntlet, the power of the other five gems should appease him enough that he will not notice that one is missing."

"And where is this other gem now?" Fury questioned, raising the brow over his one visible eye.

"I have hidden it for now." Loki told them. "It is under a protection spell so that even if Thanos does realise he is not all-powerful, he will not be able to find the missing gem."

Steve spoke up, "So then, that brings us to why you're here, on Earth."

Loki finally took the seat in front of him as he explained. "Long ago, the three Tablets were split up and given to different realms for protection. The Tablet of Life and Time remained in Asgard, the Tablet of Death and Entropy was sent to Alfheim under the care of the Light Elves, and the Tablet of Order and Chaos was sent here, to Midgard. The last records we had of its whereabouts indicated that it was in your Empire State University, but unfortunately, this was not the case."

There was silence for a second, then: "Wait, whoa, back up. There are _elves_? Like pointy ears and bows and arrows and everything?"

"How would we go about locating this missing Tablet, does SHIELD have any records on it?"

"It's a good tactic he has planned out. It could work to our advantage if we catch Thanos off-guard."

"A quest is at hand! I shall aid you brother, in your search for this mystical stone!"

"Wait a second!" Clint spoke up above them all and they quietened. "Why should we help him at all? Think about it, why would Loki, of all people, put himself on the line to save the universe? Clearly, there's some ulterior motive he hasn't told us about."

All heads turned to Loki. He eyed Clint disdainfully before answering. "For one thing, as Thanos intends to destroy the universe and I happen to _live_ in this universe, I would say it would be in my best interests to stop him." He quirked an eyebrow. "But yes, there is another reason. Thanos wanted the Tesseract and threatened me with abhorrent tortures which, I must say, were far more creative than yours Barton, if I did not deliver." He smirked at Clint who snarled back. "Therefore, he will come after me first, and I have no doubts that he will make good on his promise before destroying the rest of the universe."

"So, you get your tablet, you get off our planet, and you take Thanos with you." Clint sneered.

After listening to everyone carefully, Natasha spoke up. "You're willing to put the safety of, not just our planet, but the whole universe, into someone else's hands? I don't know about you, but seeing as I'm also a part of this universe, I'll do whatever I can to save it. That was the point of the Avengers, wasn't it? To fight the battles no one else can?"

She looked around the room at everyone, gauging their reactions. There were nods and uncertain or disapproving faces, but in the end, there was one person who needed to have their say.

"Director, ultimately, it's up to you. We follow your orders."

Fury, who had been silent throughout most of the discussion, sat deep in thought with his fingers steepled together in front of his mouth. It seemed like an eternity before he finally came to a decision.

"If this Thanos character is as powerful as you say he is, then the best course would be a pre-emptive strike. If Thanos succeeds in possessing this Infinity Gauntlet, then we will already have the necessary elements to take him down." Fury's voice was level and severe. "If Thanos takes that Gauntlet, we fight."

He eyed them all individually, "However, to go to war, I need a cohesive team." His one-eyed gaze lingered on Clint for a moment. "This is something no one would have ever expected of you, and there will be no consequences for anyone who does not wish to participate in this mission."

There was a pause as everyone considered the weight of what exactly was happening.

"I'm in." Natasha's gaze was hard and determined.

"I pledge my allegiance to my brother." Thor declared, slapping his hand down on the table loudly.

"I'm your Second-in-Command, as always, Director." Agent Hill assented.

"I'll help however I can." Bruce offered.

"Count me in." Steve nodded sternly.

Tony stroked his beard for a moment, "Are there female elves?" He suddenly asked Loki, "If there are hot elf chicks, I'm so in." He grinned, satisfied, and leant back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. Loki chose not to reply.

That left only Clint. His frown only deepened as slowly, all eyes turned to him. There was a long moment of apprehension before he spoke. "Fine, whatever." He grumbled, arms crossed angrily over his chest, and Natasha felt everyone let out a collective sigh of relief – it wouldn't have felt right, fighting one team member down.

"I still don't like you though." He growled at Loki, who chuckled darkly.

"Trust me, Agent Barton, the feeling is mutual."

"It's settled then," Fury started, "but first, we'll need to find that tablet. You said it used to be held in the Empire State University, I think I may have some leads on that. SHIELD has the resources to locate the Tablet, when we do, the Avengers will extract it."

Steve looked thoughtful. "What about the other Tablet? The one that's with the elves?" He asked Loki.

"Well, my plan was to steal it and replace it with a fake. However, if it does indeed come down to a war," he glanced to his brother, "perhaps it would be best to send Thor as a diplomatic ambassador. The Ljósálfar are great archers and we could use their skilled warriors in the battle."

"Excellent idea brother! I will also speak to Father and ask him to prepare our finest warriors." Thor declared. Loki nodded in agreement, and as everyone started to break off into their own discussions once again, Fury dismissed them.

"Agent Romanov." Fury called her back as everyone else filed out of the room. She lingered and he waited until everyone had left before speaking.

"Agent Romanov, I'll be blunt." He sized her up before asking, "Are you sure you're up for this?" He eyed her, nodding towards the swell of her belly. "I can have a SHIELD safehouse ready for you in a day. You would be safe there until this was all over. I don't want my best agent K.I.A because she was incapacitated on a battlefield."

Natasha considered Fury's offer, feeling slightly touched that he was concerned for her safety, but ultimately, she knew she could never hide away while her friends were out fighting for their lives.

"Thank you for your concern Director, but I won't leave them. I may not be as capable on the battlefield as usual, but I can still shoot a gun and I still have some medical training. I'll do whatever I can to help."

Fury nodded, accepting her decision. She made to leave but as she reached the door, the Director called her again, "Agent Romanov," she turned, "take care of yourself."

A tiny smile graced her lips; she nodded once and was gone.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

As Natasha passed the door to Thor's room, she paused as she heard heated voices coming from inside. She hesitated, unwilling to eavesdrop but wondering what the two brothers could be fighting about. But before she could make out any words, the door opened, and Loki looked as surprised to see her as she did to have been caught.

"Natasha." He breathed, standing stunned in the doorway, probably wondering if she had heard anything.

"Lady Natasha!" Exclaimed Thor from inside the room. "Do come in, Loki has just told me of the good news!"

Loki stepped aside and allowed her in, his expressionless mask in place once more.

She wasn't sure if she was glad that her belly wasn't yet large enough that people automatically knew she was pregnant, or offended that Thor had just assumed that she'd put on a tiny beer gut over the past few months. Or maybe he really hadn't noticed at all.

"I had not even realised that you and my brother were courting." Thor continued.

"Well, I wouldn't call it _courting_ ," Natasha objected, "it just kind of…happened."

Loki smirked at her. "Over and over again." He muttered quietly and she couldn't fight the blush from her cheeks.

She hesitated, but decided to ask anyway, "Is this what you two were fighting about before I came in?" The smile slid off Thor's face and he glanced to his brother, who shrugged and strode away to stare out the window.

Thor gazed at his brother's back a moment before deciding to answer her.

"We were discussing you in a sense. I told Loki that I would bring the wonderful news to mother and father when I returned to Asgard, but he forbade me to do so. He does not believe our parents will react well to the news, but I begged to differ."

They both looked thoughtfully at Loki who continued to ignore them.

"Why would your parents not be pleased?" She frowned.

Thor stuttered for a moment, looking highly uncomfortable, before Loki stopped him.

"Thor." He warned, and Natasha was surprised that she picked up on a trace of pain and fear in his voice. He turned from the window to face them, "I will tell her." He stated and walked over to stand in front of her, holding her gaze. "But not here." He said softly.

They left Thor behind and Loki led her up to the rooftop garden. "How did you even know about this place?" She questioned as they wandered along the path to the deck.

Loki smirked, "I would say Stark has a slight bragging problem." He told her and she snorted, that was nothing new.

Loki stopped walking abruptly and Natasha whirled around to face him, but his eyes were on the ground, a frown creasing his forehead. "Natasha," his voice was soft, "I never told you how this one scar came to be." His palm came to rest over his chest, where Natasha knew his largest scar lay under his clothing. "But considering the circumstances, I think it best if you are forewarned of…possible consequences."

Loki closed his eyes for a moment, as if steeling his resolve. He looked almost lost, and Natasha reached forward to take his hand.

Instinctively, he yanked his hand away, but she held his gaze, willing his trust, and he returned his hand to hers.

She led him over to the deck and they sat together on the bench. Natasha remained silent as she waited for Loki to gather his thoughts, but she couldn't help the knot of apprehension that rested heavily in her chest.

"I was in love once," he began, "a long, long time ago, hundreds of years before you were even born. Her name was Lydi'alaera." Her name sounded beautiful on his tongue. "She was a fierce warrior from Svartalfheim, a Dark Elf; breathtakingly beautiful and heart-shatteringly deadly – a lot like you." The corner of his mouth twitched softly.

"We courted for a while and I asked her to marry me," His smile was rueful, "She turned me down. I later found out that she was pregnant with my child. Again I asked her to marry me, and again she turned me down. She was a warrior at heart and always would be. She would not be tied down by husbands or children. I knew I could not keep a spirit as free as hers caged as a tame housewife, so I offered to take the child when it was born and raise it in Asgard, and she would be free to pursue her bloody desires."

He paused, drawing in a deep breath. Natasha pulled his hand into her lap, gently playing with his slender fingers, keeping him rooted in the here and now.

"My father – Odin, told me that the baby born was not a child, but a creature. He said that dark magic had turned the boy into a bloodthirsty wolf and that, for the greater good of all realms, the wolf needed to be locked away, chained to the side of a mountain by unbreakable Dwarf-made metal. The chains were invincible – I know, I tried." Loki's eyes closed as if in great pain.

"He was just a pup." He whispered, voice breaking ever so slightly.

Natasha's heart constricted for him, and she was surprised to find tears pulling at her eyes.

"The scars are the remainder of my punishment for bearing a dangerous monster into the realm of the gods." He trailed off and they stewed in the gloomy silence for a moment before Loki continued.

"When I later found out about my true parentage, I also leant the true reason for my son's banishment. My _father_ thought that the offspring of a Frost Giant and a Dark Elf would be cunning, vicious and deadly, he also worried that the child would reveal my true identity to me and ruin his chance at using me to gain political peace between realms. So when he was born, he turned his own grandson into a wolf and locked him up."

Natasha's face was hard as she took in all this information. Thor had said his brother was adopted, and that their family had many issues which was the main cause of Loki's attempted invasion over six months ago, but none of them knew many of the details. The revelation that Loki had been lied to all his life, had been stripped of his own identity and given a new one, only to be told that his true identity was that of a monster, resonated within her – after all, the Red Room had done the same thing to her.

Natasha had never before considered Loki and Thor's parents, but now, she decided she rather disliked this Odin character.

Natasha didn't quite know what to say to comfort Loki, so luckily for her, he started talking again.

"I visited him often, despite what my father had told me. He did not seem bloodthirsty to me. He was but a shaggy little pup, yapping and bounding around, always eager to play. Though I must say he most certainly took after me, he was a cheeky little thing." Loki chuckled and Natasha smiled, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand encouragingly.

Loki's mirth didn't last long however, "But, he was incredibly lonely. Sometimes at night, I could hear him howling from the palace. It was…heartbreaking. As the years passed he grew to be enormous and eventually became more wolf than man. These days, he barely speaks to me." Loki's voice faded away, lost in his own memories.

Natasha took both his hands in hers and placed them on her swollen stomach. He looked to her with confusion but she held his gaze determinedly.

"I'm not letting anyone take my baby." She told him sternly, "Not the Avengers, not SHIELD, not any damn _god_. This child will know love and protection always, and it will have the childhood that neither of us were ever allowed." Her gaze softened and she raised one hand to cup his cheek. "I will not abandon this baby. And I will not abandon you."

And Loki leaned forward and kissed her.

It was both passionate and gentle; filled with love and rage, joy and pain, anguish and peace. He pulled her across his lap and their arms wrapped around each other as they put the feelings they could not say into a kiss.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Later that night, as Stark tower slept peacefully, Loki was pulled from a dreamless slumber and into a nightmare.

"Laufeyson, I grow tired of waiting." Thanos' voice boomed across the barren dreamscape that Loki was now stuck in. Loki struggled to collect his thoughts and keep his expression impassive as he probed out hesitantly with his magic, trying to find the link back to his own mind.

"Have you not heard the saying, Titan, that good things come to those who wait?"

Thanos bared his teeth, a ferocious snarl. "Have you not heard the saying, monsterous runt, that I will tear you limb from limb for the rest of eternity should you fail me again!"

The threat made Loki's bones shake but he forcefully willed himself to appear unaffected. He would not show weakness, could not show weakness, not now, not again.

"Timing is everything for this plot to work, Thanos. In due course you will have your precious Infinity Gauntlet, I give you my word."

Thanos barked out a cruel laugh. "You speak as though the word of a worthless blight such as yourself has any meaning to me."

Loki's fists clenched at his sides as Thanos pulled deeply buried memories to the forefront of his mind.

' _No matter how much you claim to_ _ **love me**_ _-'_

' _I could have done it father!'_

' _No, Loki-'_

' _I only ever wanted to be your equal-'_

But Loki's magic was much stronger than it had been after he'd spent an eternity in the Void, and he could force back Thanos' mind invasion.

The Titan smirked, "Oh, the Frost Giant runt thinks himself strong now. Let me remind you, Laufeyson, what happens should you fail." He loomed closer and suddenly the barren landscape shifted and reformed into what Loki recognised as the volcanic and fiery craters of Muspelheim.

The heat assaulted him, pressing down on him and oppressing his magic. But in the shifting dreamscapes, Loki had felt the bond that led back to his own mind, a faint remnant of magic, like a trail of breadcrumbs leading back to safety.

He reached out, clutching on to the lifeline as Thanos manipulated a nearby stream of lava. He tugged on the link with his mind as his astral body was frozen in place, mouth forced open as the burning sludge tore past his lips and burned through his throat.

With all the strength he had left he pulled on the link, yanking himself away from the stench of his own sizzling flesh, the putrid steam that stung his eyes, away from the heat, the burning, the pain, the pain.

Thanos' laughter still rang in his ears as Loki landed back in his bed in Stark tower. He rolled to the side of the bed and vomited brilliant red. He gasped, painfully pulling air down his scorched and blistered throat as more blood leaked from his mouth and joined the puddle on the floor.

He reached a weak and shaking hand up to clasp his throat and forced himself to concentrate on healing, instead of the white-hot pain. Slowly, slowly, he healed, his throat becoming whole again, the pain dissipating and his breathing becoming easier. His mouth was no longer a bloody hole as lips and teeth and tongue reformed.

Loki flopped back onto the pillows, covered in his own sweat and blood he tried to gather his thoughts, tried to calm himself, tried to regain his strength.

Time passed, hours maybe, before Loki had the energy to sit up again, to clean himself and the room with a wave of his hand.

His mind raced.

Thanos was impatient. He needed to move things along, he needed to make sure everything was ready, that every detail was in place for when Thanos finally possessed the Gauntlet. He would not fail again; he _could not_.

Loki snuck out of his guarded makeshift bedroom in the basement and headed for his brother's room. Thor was leaving for Asgard in the morning and Loki had a favour to ask.

Loki knocked lightly and a bleary-eyed Thor opened it dressed in stripy pyjama pants. "Loki," Thor was surprised, "What are you doing up at such a late hour? Can you not sleep?"

Loki strode past his brother and paced across the room. "I came to ask a favour."

Thor crossed his massive arms over his chest and regarded his brother patiently.

"When you return to Asgard and ask Father to prepare the warriors, I want you to ask something else of him." Loki stopped pacing and met his brother's gaze.

"I want him to release Fenris."

Thor stared in shock and Loki dropped his gaze and began to pace again.

"Brother…" Thor started weakly, but Loki cut him off.

"He will be a great asset in the battle Thor, you know as well as I do how powerful he is. And," Loki paused and looked up out the window, "It's time my son was free." He all but whispered.

Thor stepped up behind his brother and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Safe travels, Thor." And Loki turned away from him and disappeared out the door.

Thor stood alone in the moonlight. He prayed his father would see reason. Loki and his feelings had been disregarded and pushed aside enough for one lifetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Lydi'alaera – pronounced Lid-ya-leera
> 
> I made up Lydi'alaera to take the place of Angrboda because I just can't see Loki sleeping with a Frost Giant when they are supposed to be mortal enemies, and I don't think Loki would do anything at that stage that would make him more of an outcast to the Asgardians than he already was. Also, I'm not counting Hela or Jormungand as Loki's children cause that's just too much explaining lol
> 
> Please, please, please review! :D


	14. The Necklace

* * *

_Until the truth becomes a lie_   
_Until you change, until you deny_   
_Until you see, how could you believe?_

_~ "Savior", 30 Seconds to Mars_

* * *

Loki spent most of the week hanging around Natasha. He wasn't allowed out of the building and they told him not to use his magic (though he did anyway). The other Avengers tolerated him, some more than others, but all shied away from engaging with him, so more often than not, he found himself seeking out the company of the Black Widow.

He waited for her in her room late one afternoon as the sun was setting, spilling brilliant colours over the New York skyline and into the room. He heard the door click open as she entered, dressed in sweaty gym gear.

She glanced up as she realised she was not alone, but merely quirked an eyebrow at his presence and turned away to hang up her boxing gloves and unstrap her hands.

In half a heartbeat, he was right behind her, the chill of his body cooling her sweat and causing goose-bumps to break out down her arms. She made to turn and face him, but his strong hands gripped her shoulders, massaging lightly and keeping her in place.

"I have something for you." He leaned down to whisper in her ear, cool breath making her yearn for more of his touch. Instead, she held her position and remained silent as she felt a cool metal brush across the skin of her chest.

She glanced down as Loki placed the necklace around her neck. The soft, gold chain skimmed over her collarbones and glittered brightly in the glow of the setting sun. From the chain dangled a green gem, a perfect oval, cradled by fine fingers of gold. At first, Natasha thought it was an emerald, but as she clasped it in her palm to inspect it closer, she noticed it gave off its own glow – definitely nothing from this world.

"It is a family heirloom." Loki stepped around to face her, letting his fingers ghost over the gold chain. "Created from the cosmos itself."

She breathed out shakily in shock; she didn't know what to say. Loki was giving her jewellery now? She hadn't been expecting that.

"Promise me," he whispered, placing his hands gently on her waist and pulling her close, bending his head slightly so that they were eye to eye, "Promise me you'll never take it off, never let it out of your sight."

His eyes were almost the same colour as the precious gem, but with so much more depth.

"I promise." She breathed. The genuine smile that bloomed across his face made her heart stutter.

Natasha gazed up and him and, hesitantly, she rested her head against his collarbone. She felt him tense up beneath her, fear still his first instinct associated with physical or intimate contact, but he forced himself to relax and she breathed in the scent of him, crisp and electric.

Her fingers played with the fabric of his tunic. There was something she had wanted to ask him for a long time.

"Loki," she breathed, and she felt his throat vibrate as he hummed in response, "could you show me? Your true form? I want to see it."

He froze, the muscles beneath her going taut, and he pulled away from her and turned.

"Don't ask me that." He growled, his back to her.

"You're not a monster Loki." She told him quietly. "What you look like and who your parents are doesn't make you a monster."

"Silence!" He shouted and whirled around to face her, a snarl on his face. "Do not speak to me of things of which you have no idea! You think you know what makes a monster? Why? Because you have seen the ugly darkness of humanity? Because you lie and kill for the greater good? You, who had never seen a true monster until you met me?"

He laughed coldly and, though Natasha appeared calm on the outside, subconsciously she had reached behind her for her gun, only to realise it wasn't there.

"Do not ask to see a monster, little spider. You will wish you hadn't." He backed away from her, distancing himself.

Natasha started hesitantly towards him, but a strange sensation in her abdomen made her stop. She froze, eyes wide, as she realised what it was.

The anger on Loki's face had dissipated somewhat and he looked at her in confusion. She held her hand out to him, beckoning him closer, but he only backed away more, uncertain.

She felt the sharp pain in her belly again, stronger this time, and she cried out. "Ah!" She gasped, and Loki was torn between rushing to her, or running from his feelings.

"Loki." She breathed, and his decision was made. He moved to her side, taking her hand and wrapping an arm around her waist to guide her to the bed.

She grasped his hand and placed it over her stomach. He frowned in confusion and was about to pull away when he felt it.

His eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat. He looked to Natasha for confirmation, "Was that…?" Her answering smile was blinding. "He's kicking."

Loki stared in awe as he felt the strong little bump again. A strange feeling swirled in his chest and tightened around his heart.

"Sorry to interrupt you Lovebirds, but your brother Goldilocks is back." Stark informed them from the doorway, breaking their little moment.

Reluctantly, Loki withdrew his hand from her stomach and held it out to her instead, helping her to her feet. It seemed their previous fight had been already forgotten.

Loki's mood swings were the definition of erratic.

They followed Tony to the common room to meet with Thor and the other Avengers.

"Brother! Lady Natasha, Man of Iron," Thor exclaimed as they entered the room, "Tis good to see you again, I bring both glad and woeful tidings."

Steve, Bruce and Clint had already seated themselves on the couch as Thor waited by the coffee table in the centre.

"I vote good news first." Tony said as he sat on the arm of the sofa next to Steve. Thor dipped his head in assent.

"The Ljósálfar have agreed to aid us in battle and have sent their finest men to join the warriors of Asgard. They also graciously allowed us the Tablet of Death and Entropy, upon the condition that both the Tablets and the Infinity Gauntlet will be destroyed after the defeat of Thanos. I gave them my word that it shall be so."

Thor stepped forward towards Loki, untying a small brown satchel from his belt. Loki felt the rest of the room hold its breath in trepidation as Thor dropped the satchel into Loki's outstretched hands, but Thor did not hesitate, which astonished Loki a little, though he kept his face perfectly blank.

Out of everyone, Thor should have the most reason to suspect his betrayal, his trickery. He had made it repeatedly clear that they were no longer brothers, that technically they never were. He had attempted the destruction of Thor's family, and of the mortal world he held dear, and even of Thor himself; and yet, Thor still had no hesitation in handing over a great source of power to him; he, the would-be king.

Loki couldn't decide if it was utter stupidity or blinding loyalty.

"But Loki," Thor interrupted him before he could lay eyes on the Tablet, "There is something else I must tell you." His expression was unusually serious and everyone tensed, apprehension heavy in the air.

"When I made to take the Tablet of Life and Time from father's vault, it simply disappeared before my eyes. I fear we have lost it forever." He rested a hand on Loki's forearm apologetically and the room was silent as the realisation of imminent defeat weighed down on everyone.

Then Loki laughed.

He laughed as everyone gaped at him in shock, wondering if he had finally gone off the deep end. "Ah, brother, you continue to underestimate me." He chuckled, not realising that, in his mirth, he had named Thor his brother. Thor and Natasha, however, both noticed, and each gave the tiniest of smiles.

"I created a fake stone and had Amora replace the real Tablet." Loki continued, "I knew that once I began my journey to find the other Tablets I may not have the chance to return to Asgard, nor might I be welcome to. So I took it, right from under Odin's nose, and no one was any the wiser." Loki chuckled to himself at his own deviousness.

Natasha and Tony may have been amused by this, but Thor was less than impressed. "Why must you resort to trickery Loki? Father will-"

Loki cut him off, suddenly wrathful at the mention of Odin, "Father will what?" He growled, face full of anger briefly before his mask was replaced and his expression impartial once again. "There is a war coming Thor, Odin has more drastic things to be worrying about. The important thing is that two of the three Tablets are now safely in our possession."

Loki loosened the satchel's drawstring and tipped it up, letting the Tablet side into his palm to prove his point.

A smooth, round oval, it was about the length of his hand from wrist to fingertip. It could be considered a common rock if found, not appearing to be magical at all but for the tiny chicken-scratch markings that covered one side of the stone. Its power radiated into his pores, calling out to Loki's own magic.

"That's it?" Stark questioned in disbelief, "I gotta say, I'm a little disappointed, I was kinda expecting something a little more kick-ass than a rock." Loki smirked; Natasha caught the mischief that danced in his eyes and instantly became wary.

"Take a closer look, Son of Stark." Loki offered, "Here, catch."

Loki tossed the stone gently towards Stark, who, on reflex, cupped his hands to catch it. The weight of it slammed him bodily to the ground with a resounding thud.

"Ah! What the hell?" Stark cried as he got to his knees, his hands still cupped under the Tablet. He tried to lift it, straining until his face was red, but it wouldn't budge and his hands were stuck.

Loki chuckled to himself and the other Avengers snickered and looked highly amused as Stark swore at both Loki and the rock. Loki stepped forward and plucked the Tablet out of Stark's crushed hands with ease.

"It may appear small, but do not underestimate its power." Loki told him bemusedly as Tony glared and blew on his red and aching fingers.

Concentrating, Loki made the necessary motions to manipulate the threads of space. A small, square portal opened up in front of him and everyone watched on in amazement (except Thor who was quite used to it) as Loki slipped the Tablet back into the satchel, placed it into the void, and closed the portal.

"What the hell was that?" Tony exclaimed when the power of speech had returned to him.

"A space rift." Loki stated, shrugging as if it was no great achievement. "Using magic I can manipulate two parts of the space-time continuum and create a fold in space and time which only I can access from any of the eleven dimensions."

Most of the Avengers, including Thor, looked thoroughly confused at this explanation, however Bruce and Stark looked utterly dumbstruck.

"Eleven dimensions?" Tony asked, leaning forwards excitedly like a kid on Christmas, "So M-theory is correct… An all-encompassing String Theory… if a closed loop can be created – oh, the implications of this! I need a drink." Stark ended up talking more to himself than to Loki, who looked quite happily perplexed that he had boggled the mortal genius' mind, and wandered over to the bar at the other end of the room.

Bruce took off his glasses and began cleaning them, staring at Loki and muttering things like "Amazing" and "Incredible".

Tony returned to the gathering, tumbler of bourbon in hand, and slung an arm around Loki's shoulders. "Rock of Ages, I'm officially inviting you down to the labs one day, okay?"

Loki gave Stark a strange look and peeled the offending hand from his shoulder.


	15. The Prank War

* * *

_Takes just a breeze to cause a storm,_   
_Takes just a breath to cause a scream,_   
_It takes me to cause a tragedy_

_~ "Broken Inside", Broken Iris_

* * *

With Loki under unofficial house arrest, Thor had taken it upon himself to keep his little brother entertained and out of trouble, much to Loki's horror and everyone else's amusement. It was because of this that Loki found himself ducking into one of Stark's labs in an attempt to hide from his brother, who had decided Loki needed a haircut and was chasing him around Stark Tower with a pair of scissors (and Loki was not letting Thor anywhere _near_ his hair, not for all the dwarf gold in the Nine Realms).

Satisfied that Thor had continued his search elsewhere, he wandered around the messy lab, curiosity getting the better of him. He sifted through files and notes, touching and fiddling with half completed gadgets and inventions.

Loki was rather enjoying playing with a life-sized fly cam until it flew too close to a Bunsen burner and combusted with a tiny puff of smoke. As he grimaced and swept the tiny fly-corpse under a pile of papers, he noticed a folder that read _'SHIELD Confidential: Project Pulse'_ in bold, red block letters.

Loki glanced around quickly before opening the folder and skimming over the notes. To his surprise, it seemed the mortals had made a connection between magic and science in this realm. His interest peaked, Loki dived into the document, noting their theory of magical surges in relation to negatively charged electrons and Compton scatter.

Almost absentmindedly, Loki picked up a pen and began correcting the paper, adding notes relating the flow and pull of magical energy to the electric field between electrons and ions and their subsequent connection to gamma radiation, and making slight adjustments to the surface burst EMP equations so that the peak frequency was now high enough to disrupt magically ionized particles.

Enrapt by the intellectual stimulation, Loki forgot all about his maniacal, scissor-toting brother, and spent the next few hours exploring and correcting the paper's theories, and eventually, Loki must have dozed off.

Tony and Bruce arrived at their peacefully isolated lab only to find it was already occupied.

Stark stopped abruptly when he saw him, almost causing Bruce to run up the back of him and spill his freshly made coffee. They both stared a moment at the sprawl of black hair, then Tony's face split into an evil grin.

Quietly setting his coffee down on the bench by the door, he put his finger to his lips and motioned for Bruce to stay quiet as he silently crept closer to the sleeping god.

Upon closer inspection, it shocked Stark to see how peaceful Loki looked. His mask removed, there were no frown lines to mar his brows, no sneers or smirks to twist his lips, just long dark lashes on perfect pale cheeks.

' _Who knew the homicidal, mass-murdering demi-god would look so cute when he was asleep?'_ Tony thought wryly to himself.

Tony smirked and crouched down, drawing breath into his lungs. He was about to shout "HEY!" at the top of his voice, right in Loki's ear, when the god's peaceful expression was suddenly disturbed. His brows collided together in a frown and a sort of groan escaped his lips, almost like a whimper.

Bruce shuffled closer as Tony froze, the two frowning worriedly as Loki's nose crinkled up and his breathing became laboured, tiny groans and flinches peppering his sleep.

Tony decided this wasn't fun anymore, he knew a nightmare when he saw one, he'd had enough of them since Afghanistan.

"Hey, Loki." He called out, grabbing Loki's shoulder and giving it a gentle shake.

The reaction was instantaneous.

Loki's eyes flew open and he sat up so fast that he and the chair toppled backward and hit the floor with a crack. Loki flung himself to the side and suddenly a ball of crackling blue light appeared around him, like some sort of protective force field.

He rolled into a crouch, scrambling to find the source of his attackers. His eyes were wide and wild, darting back and forth between the two perplexed scientists and then all around the room, his breath came in short, sharp gasps.

"Whoa, easy. It's just us." Tony held his hands up in a placating motion, "Relax buddy, it was just a dream."

Loki blinked a few times before seeming to regain an idea of where he was. The blue ball of energy disappeared and Loki stood shakily, still breathing heavily. He rubbed a hand over his face, his brows furrowed in deep thought.

"A dream. Or the astral plane?" He muttered to himself, seeming to take no notice of them. Loki's mind churned for a moment, comparing possibilities and implications, before he finally realised he was being watched.

He glanced up to see the two male mortals staring at him like he was crazy. Realising this, his mask of cool façade was replaced immediately.

"Gentlemen," he inclined his head slightly towards them and made to leave, but Tony finally snapped out of his gobsmacked stupor.

"Hold up a sec, what was that all about? You having nightmares Reindeer Games, or was that some kind of mystical hoodoo voodoo?" Stark asked, waggling his fingers in the air at the words 'voodoo'.

"It is none of your concern." Loki brushed him off with a wave of his hand. He paused by the door, knowing that this revelation would sufficiently distract them from what they had just seen.

"Oh, by the way, I believe I have improved your theory on magical disruption in the mortal realm."

"What?" Stark blinked in confusion before glancing down at the paper Loki had been working on. He picked it up and flicked through it.

"Hey! This is top secret! You weren't supposed to read this…" But his sentence trailed off as he realised the implications of what Loki had written.

Loki chuckled mischievously. "You're welcome." He commented sarcastically before he left, disappearing down the hallway.

"Holy crap." Stark mumbled, not even noticing that he had been successfully distracted. Bruce read over his shoulder, "That guy is smarter than we even first thought. Scary." The doctor muttered, and Tony couldn't agree more.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Natasha Romanov was one of the best spies in the agency; the crème de la crème. If Fury had a mission that seemed, for all intents and purposes, impossible, she was the one he called. She had averted nuclear war on multiple occasions, she had prevented civil war in Mexico, Ukraine, Somalia and Latvia, and she had undermined countless underground organisations.

This mission, however, was one of the toughest she had faced.

This mission involved integrating Loki into modern society, which was difficult enough, but trying to make him be nice to people? Natasha was almost certain that was physically impossible.

They hadn't let him out of Stark Tower yet as they were worried people may recognise him from the Battle of New York (plus SHIELD was rather concerned that, once outside, he may run off and burn down the _other_ half of New York), but Natasha thought she would start off by getting him on friendly terms with the Avengers, and then maybe work her way down to other SHIELD agents who worked on the floors below.

It was a hard ask, especially when neither parties liked each other, but eventually the tension in the air whenever Loki was in the room began to dissipate and they all got used to the idea that Loki was now on their side.

Loki was free to wander the top ten private floors of Stark Tower but had been allocated sleeping quarters in the basement. Guards had been assigned to escort him to and from his destinations and to stand sentry over his rooms at night, even though they all knew that he could, and had already, escaped their watch.

On the technological side of things, Loki was progressing rather well. He was a fast learner, and had picked things up much faster than his brother (who still sometimes struggled with the TV remote and was now banned from the kitchen after blowing up the microwave).

He devoured her book collection, even the Russian ones, much to Natasha's surprise, explaining to her that he and Thor had some sort of power called the All-Tongue which allowed them to speak, read and write in any language.

She then introduced him to the Internet, and once he had it figured out, he promptly googled himself, much to Natasha's dismay, laughing his ass off at the ridiculous myths and legends that had been passed down as history.

Natasha also updated his wardrobe since the layers of Asgardian dress he wore were _seriously_ hard to get off. She picked up a few tailored suits since he refused to wear 'commoners clothes' as he put it, as well as silky green ties and a beautiful, hand-woven green and silver scarf. Then, with a devious little smile, she picked up a pretty blue tie as well that matched her eyes.

Loki's mind was insatiably curious, which Tony found out the hard way after coming home to find Loki sitting in the middle of the lounge room floor, intently studying the pulled apart pieces of Tony's flat screen that surrounded him.

Socially, however, Loki was rather reluctant. He refused to eat dinner with them and tended to avoid everyone but Natasha, even Thor. Tony and Bruce were the first to warm up to Loki, apparently that had something to do with the god solving some scientific equation or something but Natasha hadn't really understood what the two scientists were babbling on about.

And one by one, they all found out exactly why Loki was named the God of Mischief.

It all started when Tony made them all (rather forcibly) sit and watch Disney's _Beauty and the Beast_. Natasha held no interest for it until she noticed how enraptured Loki was in the movie.

Considering the storyline, Natasha considered that it may have hit close to home for Loki, and she wondered if she could use this to her advantage as a catalyst to warrant his belief in his own redemption. It soon became apparent though, that the beauty falling in love with the beast despite his appearance and behaviour, was _not_ what had Loki so intrigued.

Apparently it was the teacup.

Steve, the self-appointed cook of the group as he and Natasha were the only ones who actually could cook, was usually first in the kitchen in the morning and often cooked for them at night when they all grew tired of Tony ordering takeout. So it was he who first discovered that common kitchen items had been bewitched into becoming animated.

Steve called Bruce in to have a look, and it was all rather cute at first as they watched the crockery interact with each other, until the pot called the kettle black and they started to fight, clanging loudly across the kitchen bench, and the espresso machine began to chase the teacups, spraying hot coffee all over the floor as it chased them out the kitchen and all around the dining room.

A little dumbstruck, Steve bravely attempted to pull the pot and kettle apart, however the pot instantly turned on him and began to batter him over the head. Bruce stepped in to help but the pot called in reinforcements from the other pans and soon both Steve and Bruce were being chased from the kitchen, hands thrown protectively over their heads as a barrage of pots and pans battered down on them.

Clint, however, was by far Loki's favourite target, which only seemed to fuel the hate between them more.

Bewitched arrows that never hit their target and pants that shrunk a size whenever Clint thought homicidal thoughts about the God of Mischief (which was rather often) were some of Loki's more mild pranks.

Loki even joined them for dinner one night, just to turn the big chicken drumstick that Clint was about to take a bite of into a baby snake.

Clint screamed and flung the snake, toppling backwards off his chair in the process and ending up sprawled on the floor as everyone else around the table roared with laughter. However, it was promptly turned back into a chicken leg when Natasha turned rather pale and told Loki quietly, "I don't like snakes."

Though Clint and Thor were the most common victims of Loki's mischief, the prank he played on Tony made Natasha regret she ever taught the Trickster god a thing about computers.

She had no idea where he had learnt the hacking and coding skills from (dammit, why was everything so easy to Google?) but the god somehow managed to hack Tony's servers and recode the system's default language into Old Norse - apparently a completely dead language.

"God _dammit_ Loki!" Tony raged as he stomped into the lounge room where Natasha and Bruce were playing chess, searching wildly for the god in question.

"What's wrong?" Bruce asked, his focus on the game lapsing and Natasha took full advantage of his distraction to take out his bishop with her knight.

"Check." She pronounced proudly.

"Don't ask me how, but that crazy god has reprogrammed all the computer systems in the building to some weird alien language. Even the coding is some weird writing, I can't even read it to change it back to normal!" He crossed his arms over his chest, frustrated. Bruce carefully pulled himself out of check.

"He's even turned JARVIS into some kind of gibbering Viking. Watch," Tony instructed them, and glanced up to the ceiling, "JARVIS?" he called, and the artificial butler responded only in a sing-song language that was strangely haunting.

Natasha smirked, "Looks like you've been Loki'd." Bruce giggled unashamedly.

Tony blanched a little and raised an eyebrow, "Is that a thing now? That's a thing now, isn't it?"

Natasha shrugged one shoulder and turned her attention back to the chess game.

Tony was silent for a moment before he smirked, rubbing his hands together like an evil villain. "Oh, it's so on!" He declared, striding from the room with an over-dramatic evil cackle.

And so began the prank war.

Natasha couldn't help but think Tony was at a slight disadvantage, for all his genius. Where Loki found himself being drenched by a precariously placed bucket of green slime as he stepped through a door left ajar, or stunk out of his own room by a fart bomb; Tony found himself in situations like being chased down the corridor of Stark tower by a hive of angry bees, or a sandwich that tried to bite him back.

The prank war came to an abrupt halt, however, when Natasha was caught in the crossfire.

She wasn't sure who (as they both vehemently denied it), but _someone_ had put dye in her shampoo, and her once fiery locks were now a bright, bubblegum pink.

The mischief stopped after she tore them both a new one, but not before Tony finally broke down and blurted the comment he had been dying to say: "I gotta know but - does the carpet match the drapes?"

And Loki facepalmed as Stark brought upon himself the full wrath of the Black Widow.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Later that night, Loki found out that the carpet did indeed match the drapes when she walked out of the bathroom, drying her hair, and failed to notice that Loki was already in her room.

He coughed, averting his eyes from the tiny, bright pink strip of pubic hair that Natasha allowed to grow. She yelped, ripping the towel from her head and covering her body with it.

Loki rolled his eyes and grinned cheekily up at her. "Nothing I haven't seen before, little spider."

Natasha glowered. His stupid, smug face was really starting to tick her off.

"What do you want, Loki." She snapped.

"Just came to see how you fair." He gave a one-armed shrug as if he couldn't care less how she was doing.

"Why would you care?" She knew she was letting anger seep into her voice, but she couldn't help it. She had washed her hair seven times now and the ends were still pink. Needless to say she was a little pissed.

But her defensiveness only caused Loki to shut down; his walls went up, and his icy demeanour went with it.

"I don't." He replied coldly. "But it is only a matter of time now before we are called upon to retrieve the final Tablet, and I need to know if you are adequately capable. I would prefer for you not to die, since you are carrying my child and all."

He left in a swish of leather, slamming the door shut before she had a chance to come up with a scathing reply.

She glared at the door instead, hoping he could feel her anger.

Ass.

Letting her towel fall to the ground, she dressed quickly before flopping back onto her bed with a huff.

Natasha was beginning to lose her grip on Loki. At times she wasn't able to read him, and she didn't like that at all. Her wild, pregnant emotions were starting to cloud her mission, and that was unacceptable.

Doubt crept into her mind; maybe Loki really didn't care, maybe she had misread the whole situation. Maybe the whole thing was an act.

Since he had come to Stark Tower, they had shared a few moments, and he had kissed her on the roof, but they hadn't slept together. Not that she could blame him, she supposed. She looked like the beached whale in the disturbing video Tony had once shown her, right before it exploded.

Regardless, he was still her mission, and she would just have to try something else, even if her stupid pregnancy brain was giving her weird feelings whenever he was around.

Pain suddenly ripped through her core and Natasha winced, rubbing at the swell of her stomach in attempt to make the pain subside faster.

The strain of carrying a magical, alien baby in a mortal body was beginning to show.

Natasha felt tired all the time and her strength had weakened considerably. She now had a dull, constant baseline pain that radiated across her abdomen and up her spine, and every now and again, a sharp burst of breakthrough pain would leave her in agony for a few seconds before subsiding again.

Bruce continued to check up on her over the next few days, declaring that she was now well into her third trimester. "Your blood pressure is a little high." He mentioned, trying not to let his concern show too much. "I can give you something for the pain, Natasha, you don't have to grin and bear it."

"I'm fine, doctor." She sat up, pulling her shirt back down. "The pain comes and goes, but it's manageable."

Bruce adjusted his glasses, studying her a moment. "Y'know," he said slowly, "Loki came to see me the other night." Natasha raised a questioning eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. "He asked me to keep a close eye on you. I think he's worried about you." A tiny smirk pulled at the corners of Bruce's mouth, and Natasha pursed her lips.

"He also said that your child's magic is strong, and that's why your body is in such distress. The baby is sucking your energy in order to feed it's magic." Bruce gave her an apologetic look but Natasha didn't say anything, she had already figured as much. "He also warned me not to preform a caesarean," Bruce added, almost as an afterthought, "He didn't say why..."

They were interrupted by Tony Stark wandering into her room, without bothering to knock. "Hey Red," he addressed her, and for once Stark's expression was totally serious. "I've been wanting to ask you something about lover-boy." He waved his arm in the direction of her door and Natasha raised one brow, remaining guarded but indicating for him to continue.

"It's just, well," he paused and rubbed at his beard with one hand and Natasha was shocked. Stark speechless? That was a first.

"He seems _different_ to what I thought he would be." Stark continued, brow furrowed in thought, and he now had the full attention of both Natasha and Bruce. "I mean, yeah when he first got here he was all dark and brooding, and sometimes he still has his moods, but when he thinks no one is looking he becomes so… _playful_ and curious. Like a naughty kid. So I can't help but wonder, what happened to that kid? What made him go all evil and murder-y? And not only that, there was an incident the other week. Bruce was there, he saw it."

Natasha looked to Bruce as realisation crossed his face and he nodded in agreement. "We walked in on him having a nightmare. When he woke up he was real skittish and defensive."

"He projected some kind of protective spell around him," Bruce added, "like he was waiting for someone to hurt him. I've been thinking about that too." He admitted to Tony.

Natasha pursed her lips as she thought. She knew Loki was damaged goods, they all knew his family had issues, but Natasha knew she was missing something, she could feel it. She thought back to when she had asked to see Loki's true form and he had called himself a monster, she considered his fear of being touch, of personal contact, even close intimate proximity.

Slowly, Natasha nodded. "I've noticed it too. What we know of Loki's life hasn't been easy, but then again, neither have any of ours." She glanced at the two men, one who had been turned into a monster and chased from the country by his own government, and the other who had been tortured and almost died at the hands of terrorists.

"But," she gazed, unseeing, out the window, "I do think there are things Loki isn't telling us." And what Natasha said next made cold fingers of dread slide down the two scientists' spines.

"And whatever Loki isn't telling us must be ten times worse than what he is telling us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay, so this was a bit of a crack!fic chapter, but the story starts to get a bit dark from here on in so I felt like we needed it. Plus, the thought of Loki and Tony having a prank war and Natasha ending up with pink hair cracks me up. I mean seriously, can you just imagine it? XD
> 
> And for anyone who hasn't seen the whale video Natasha was talking about, here's the link
> 
> www.youtube.com/watch?v=7X0hq0ug9q4&feature=kp
> 
> Just probably don't watch it while you're having lunch lol ;)
> 
> Review pretty please?


	16. The Thief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos are love :D

* * *

_You will never be strong enough_   
_You will never be good enough_   
_You were never conceived in love_   
_You will not rise above_

_~ "Lies", Evanescence_

* * *

Loki sat by the waterfall on the rooftop, his back against the wall down which the water ran. He skipped stones along the man-made river, expression neutral, and to any passerbys it would appear he was merely enjoying the sun and the peace.

But Loki's thoughts were not so peaceful.

His mind was an erratic cacophony of thoughts. Natasha was with child. His child. What would become of the hapless babe?

It was part monster, would it then be monstrous? Would his father rip the newborn from its mother's arms and bind it to a desolated rock for all eternity? Should he dash its head against the ground no sooner than it is born, and save it from all the heartache and pain he had gone through?

But it would also be part human.

Would it look like her?

And that thought erased any notion of harm befalling the child.

Natasha. The mortal woman who had confounded him, enraged him, calmed him.

Did he love her? No, a heart is needed to love, and his was destroyed long ago.

Did she love him? It was impossible; one could not love a beast, no matter what this playwright named 'Disney' said.

And yet, and yet there was this feeling, and he dared to name it hope. Hope that she could make him whole again. She was bathed in blood as he is now, but she is free. Her life has purpose, has meaning. She is loved.

Once, they were both bloodstained, but now she is bloodless, and he wants, more than anything, to be bloodless too.

With her.

But does a monster deserve this? No, of course not.

Monsters do not deserve to be pure and free, they are stained with blood and hate, always.

And he is monstrous. And he will always be monstrous.

He threw the last rock with anger, and it plonked once into the water with a large splash.

Sentiment.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Awkward turtles. Awkward turtles everywhere.

Clint had shuffled into the kitchen while she was eating breakfast and was too proud to leave, and she was too stubborn. So they sat and ate their breakfast, in awkward silence, with awkward turtles.

Natasha scoffed down her food with more haste than usual and then stood to return her bowl to the kitchen. As she passed him, she heard him exhale a loud sigh and he reached out to grasp her arm.

"Nat, wait." Natasha paused, but didn't turn around, didn't reply. With everything that had happened, they had barely spoken since the day he found out she was pregnant.

"Nat, we should talk. I'm your partner, we're family, remember? Talk to me, tell me what's going on."

She raised an eyebrow, face impassive. "I don't know what you're talking about." She replied coolly, pulling from his grip and continuing to the kitchen.

"Don't give me that bullshit Nat." He followed her into the kitchen. "Look, I'm sorry for what I said before, about, y'know." He waved his hands in her general direction.

Natasha crossed her arms, silently rejecting his apology.

"I was angry and hurt and I hated Loki for what he did to you. I still do. But I guess I've had time to think about it and I realise now that it's your baby too, it has a part of you." He frowned. "Hopefully it'll be mostly you." He half murmured to himself and Natasha almost smiled.

Clint turned serious again, imploring her with light blue-green eyes. "I'll be there for you Tasha, if you need me, you and your baby." And at this, Natasha did smile.

"But Loki I don't trust." Clint continued. "He's bad news. For everyone." Natasha nodded solemnly and Clint grasped her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Thankyou Clint."

As Natasha placed her hand on his arm to return the gesture, a flash of green caught Clint's eye and his hand dropped down to pluck the gem from her chest.

"What is this? You never wear jewellery."

Natasha frowned, tugging the gold-encompassed gem from her partner's hand and tucking it protectively back under her shirt. "It was a gift." She shrugged, trying to brush it off, but Clint wouldn't let it go that easily.

"It's from him, isn't it? He's giving you jewellery now? What happened to him being just a target?" Clint spat, his forehead creased in anger.

Natasha shook her head. "It's not like that Clint."

The archer crossed his large arms over his chest, unconvinced. "What's it like then? You're compromised Nat, admit it. When Fury hears about this you'll be off the case."

Natasha felt her cool slip as she got defensive. "I am _not_ compromised! Aside from this one complication," she rubbed at her belly, "this mission is going according to plan. Loki trusts me and is working with us and sharing information. The Director has what he needs from the target and the necklace is just proof of a successful mission, not that this is any of your business!" She hissed, anger flickering in her like a flame.

Clint rubbed a hand over his forehead. "Whatever, this is still a fucked up situation you've gotten yourself in Nat."

Natasha shrugged, "Maybe so, but we're spies, we do what we have to and we deal with things as they come." She held her partner's gaze, and eventually he gave in, letting out a loud sigh.

"Fine, but I don't like it."

Natasha smirked, "No one said you had to."

Unbeknownst to the two assassins, the target in question had been wandering by with his nose buried in a book and had overheard the entire conversation.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

"Good news, team." Fury began. The Director had called them all down to the tenth floor conference room at 0800 hours for briefing. He eyed them all, commanding their full attention.

"We have located the missing Tablet. However, it is being held in a secure facility in a country which isn't exactly on friendly terms with the US." As the Director's eye passed over her, Natasha felt dread build, cold and hard, in the pit of her stomach.

She had a bad feeling about this already.

"Therefore, this mission will be totally off the records." Fury continued, "The American Government will have no knowledge of your whereabouts or activities, and therefore no help or rescue team will be sent, is that understood?"

A chorus of "Yes, sir!" echoed through the room and Fury nodded.

Natasha glanced up at Loki. It hadn't passed her notice that when she sat down next to him, he had shifted slightly away from her. He hadn't spoken to her either, and Natasha assumed he was still angry with her for the other night.

"Alright then, the mission brief has blueprints, security codes, staff files, everything you'll need." Fury pulled the thick manila folder from inside his jacket and slid it down the long, oval table.

Steve flipped it open and started to read.

"Supplies, weapons, and anything else you may need are being delivered to Stark Tower as we speak. I would offer you a quinjet, but it seems Stark has already taken care of that aspect." He raised an eyebrow at Tony who grinned cheekily and took a swig of his drink. "After that, you're on your own." He warned them, then he left.

Everyone drifted toward Steve, the unspoken leader, except Loki who hung back. Natasha moved to stand behind Steve, "Where to?" she asked as she leant over the back of his chair to read over his shoulder.

He hesitated, glancing up at her for a moment and she instantly read the worry and concern in his eyes. He glanced around at the other Avengers who had crowded around him, determined expressions on their faces, before he finally answered.

"Stalingrad, Russia."

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Tonight was the night. They would leave for Natasha's town of birth in the morning. It had to be done tonight.

Alone in his guarded room, Loki opened the portal to the realm of Asgard and conjured a doppelgänger to take his place.

Loki breathed in deep the scent of his own room, the place he had once called home for many centuries. He pushed aside the feelings of comfort and homesickness and all the thoughts that came with it, he could not tarry here long. He moved around the corner, to the niche where a long oak table sat full of potion bottles and ingredients and books of magic and tomes of spells.

Loki, God of Lies, smiled genuinely to himself as he ran his hands over the familiar wood from better times, before settling down to work.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Loki silently made his way down through the castle's winding passageways, knowing these halls better than most, having spent much of his youth hiding in the shadows in order to watch a prank come to fruition or to hide from his brother when the craving for a crazy adventure struck him.

He took shortcuts through servant passages and hidden doors so as to remain unseen, if spotted now his presence would more than likely be reported to the king, and that would result in unwanted questions.

Loki made his way to the kitchens, where he knew the meals for the guards on duty were currently being prepared. Hanging back around the corner from the kitchen's doorway, Loki could hear the head chef shouting orders over the bustle of the kitchen.

"Greta! Take these to the guards on the south battlements. Florence and Abigail! These trays go to those across the castle entrance. Lucinda! Take these down to the Vault of Treasures."

Loki smirked. Perfect.

Loki hid as Lucinda stumbled out the door, balancing the trays of food and drink. He followed her at a leisurely pace, until they were in a more secluded part of the castle, then he made his appearance.

"Lucy, darling." He cooed directly behind her, and she dropped the trays in surprise, scattering food across the floor and shattering the glass steins of ale on the stone.

"Baldur's balls, Loki, you scared me!" She exclaimed, dropping to her knees and beginning to scrape together the ruined food. She glanced up at him with large hazel eyes, her position on her knees reminding him of her expertise at fellatio. He plastered on a warm smile.

"My sincerest apologies. Here, allow me to aid you." With a wave of his hand time seemed to reverse, sandwiches restacking themselves on the plate, mutton legs dusting themselves off, and pitchers reforming as ale poured itself back inside.

"You are too kind, my Prince." She bowed her head as she gathered the tray once again and stood. "But what are you doing here Your Majesty, if I may ask? I heard you had left Asgard."

Lucinda was very pretty for a servant, a petite little doe-eyed thing. She blushed easily, which entertained Loki, but what he had liked most about her in his youth was that her long, wavy hair was not blonde. It was a rich honey-brown, not as unusual as his black locks, but different enough that she had caught his attention centuries ago.

"I have business to attend to, but shall only remain on Asgard for a short while. However, I came down here to see you, it has been a long time, dear Lucy." His expression turned a little predatory and he could almost hear her heart beat faster. She took a few steps back as he advanced, until her back was against the stone wall, and the only thing between them was the tray of food.

"I do not have much time, my darling, but I could not resist seeing you. I ache to taste your flesh again, to hear your heart beat in time with mine, to bask in your beauty and to breathe in the scent of you."

He plucked the tray from her hands as he spoke and knelt to place it at their feet. He glanced up and noted her pupils dilated with desire, chest heaving with anticipation, and he knew his silver tongue was successful once more.

"Oh, my Prince." She breathed, her cheeks reddening the way he liked.

Loki slid his hands under her skirts, pressing his mouth to the back of her knee in a kiss as his fingers travelled further upwards. Her head lolled back and her eyes closed in pleasure as she let out a tiny whimper, and Loki took his chance to slip the little vial of purple liquid from his sleeve and empty the contents into the pitchers of ale.

Mission complete, Loki stood and spun Lucinda around, pushing her up against the wall and hiking up her skirts. Pinning her wrists to the wall above her head with one hand, Loki took pleasure in his adolescent courtesan once again.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

The little purple potion came into effect moments after the guards finished their meals. They slumped to the ground at their posts, one snoring lightly.

Loki recalled the words his little spider had once told him when he had interrupted a mission, _'You don't always have to kill'_ and he wondered if somehow, subconsciously, her words had driven him to use the sleeping potion instead.

Shaking it from his mind, Loki stole past the unconscious guards.

Silently he glided down the stone staircase to the Vault. The Destroyer was no longer a threat and he had learnt how to evade Heimdall's all-seeing eye long ago; the All-father himself was the only one who could stop his plan now, and he was not even aware of his presence.

Without footsteps, Loki came to the pedestal upon which the Gauntlet sat. It shone, golden with power, and its four gems were just as bright. Passing his fingers over it, Loki could feel the ancient magic coursing within, a powerful object indeed. One he could not allow Thanos to fully control, no matter what the cost.

Summoning a small amount of magic, Loki conjured a replica of the Infinity Gauntlet. It would not hold up to scrutiny, but may hide the theft for a little longer. With deft fingers, he swapped the two.

As soon as he held it, he felt its power call to him, urging him to wear it, to take the power it offered and make all who doubted him bow down, make all who wronged him repent, and banish his false father to the Void as he had been, and his brother would plead for his wisdom and advice, and the treacherous mortal, the conniving assassin, oh, how she would beg…

Loki stumbled as force of will broke the Gauntlet's thrall.

Quickly he opened a rift, shoving the golden glove in and sealing it shut as if he could lock all his dark desires away with it. He stared down at his long pale hands, and for a brief moment he envisioned them covered in blood, dripping red.

Shaking off the sense of dread, Loki opened the portal back to his room, his prison, in the mortal realm. There was still one final stage that was to be completed this night.

Kicking off his boots and shedding the outer layer of his clothing, Loki lay back in his Midgardian bed and closed his eyes, softly beginning to chant the spell that would separate his astral spirit from his body. He visualized their meeting place, the barren landscape, the starless sky, the stench of desolation.

"Little Princeling." Thanos' voice boomed in the cold air. "Have you come bearing gifts or have you come for a little more _fun_?" He sneered, lumbering forward to grasp him, but Loki darted out of his reach.

"I have it." Loki smirked, and Thanos stopped trying to catch him and his purple face split with a large, yellow-toothed, skin-crawling grin. Thanos threw back his head and roared.

And in the darkness, Loki smiled.


	17. The Mission

* * *

_Love is a dangerous game to play._  
 _Hearts are made for breaking and for pain._  
 _I'm selfish and I'm cold._  
 _I promise you I said never again, never again._

_~ "The Race", 30 Seconds To Mars  
_

* * *

They left at 0600 hours and arrived just before midnight, local time. During the flight, Natasha had deduced that Loki was definitely avoiding her. He deliberately walked past the unoccupied seat beside her and instead sat the furthest away from them all, distancing himself. Thor sat next to her instead, which only seemed to annoy Loki more.

And once they landed, she had other things to worry about.

They touched down on the sandy southern point of the north-most island of the Volga River. During the city's former Stalingrad days, the island had housed a small militant training base, but had since been deserted. Or should have been.

Fury's intelligence team had tracked the Tablet's whereabouts to a hidden underground facility, down the great chiasm that fell in the centre of the island. Why the Russians had it and what they were doing with it was unclear, but whatever they found down there, Natasha was sure it wouldn't be good.

Not that she would be able to find out for herself.

She was to stay with the ship and be their eyes and ears to guide them into the facility. There had initially been a debate about whether she should even be allowed to come, but she had point blank refused to sit at home while everyone else went off to save the world.

"Hey Tash, don't look so down. We need you here." Clint clasped her on the shoulder with a warm smile as they all filed out.

"Yeah, and thanks to my little doo-dad here," Stark tapped his finger against the modified Comm-link in his ear that they all wore, "You'll be able to see and hear everything we do."

As her boys donned heavy cloaks and trundled out the door, Loki bushed past her without a word, dressed in no more than his usual leather Asgardian attire.

Finally, she caught his eye, just before he passed through the door, and electricity seemed to crackle between emerald and sapphire in the air between them, before he turned from her and disappeared into the frosty night.

Natasha sat on the open quinjet ramp, breathing in the crisp Russian air as she watched her comrades disappear into the night.

As much as this place had haunted her, it was still her home, and with Russian soil beneath her boots and Russian stars above her head, she felt strangely at peace. Natasha suddenly wished for a Black Sobranie, but then realised that even if she had a cigarette, she couldn't smoke it.

She then wondered if cigarette smoke could even harm a baby that was half god.

Returning to the warmth, Natasha settled at the controls and watched as her boys trudged (rather loudly) over the frost-bitten lands of Stalingrad.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

"The last time I was in Russia, I don't remember it looking like this." Steve breathed, glancing around with wide eyes as the tall grass rippled in the icy breeze, and the clear night sky was seen in patches through the foliage of the tall woodland trees.

"I do remember it being this cold though."

"Yep, pretty glad my suit is temperature regulated right about now." Clint gave Stark a shove before yanking his arm back inside the warmth of his cloak.

"This is why I liked India." Bruce looked even smaller wrapped in the thick, woollen coat.

"Nonsense! This land is nothing compared to the icy wastelands of Jotunheim! Is it not so, brother?" Loki merely quirked an eyebrow, noting sardonically that Thor was also wearing a heavy robe.

' _When you've all stopped complaining, the entry point is just ahead.'_ Natasha's mechanical voice broke their blithe atmosphere. _'The western sentry tower is about 500 feet to your right and I'm getting two heat signatures. You'll have to take them out.'_

"Am I allowed to kill them?" Loki asked the little microphone by his cheek. The others gave him a strange look but the Comm-link was silent for a moment before Natasha replied. _'Yes.'_ And Loki's answering smile was dark.

Teleporting to the top of the watchtower, Loki slid a beautifully crafted Elven long-dagger from his robes: a gift from Lydi'alaera. He swung down from the roof, slitting the throats of the two guards before they even had time to grasp their weapons, and silently lowering their bodies to the floor.

"All clear." He returned jovially to the Avengers' midst, wiping the blood from his blade on the corner of Thor's cape. He noted satisfyingly that they all looked rather wary of him.

' _Nice job, Loki. Proceed.'_

They came to the forest's edge and spotted the entry point; the end of the facility's ventilation shaft, a wide metal tube that poked out of the ground.

As they approached, sticking close to the ground, Loki glanced at Thor. He did not think he would fit.

"Thor, your breastplate. Remove your breastplate."

But his brother protested. "This breastplate was forged by the dwarfs of Nidavellir, it has served me well in many battles and is paramount to-"

' _Loki's right, Thor you won't fit with it on.'_

Loki smirked. "I could always shrink you again." He offered politely, which made Thor shed the bulky breastplate rather hastily much to everyone's amusement.

"Now that's a story I want to hear." Stark commented as they slid, one by one, down the chute.

"Um, this drop is a little longer than I thought it would be." Bruce remarked as they continued to slide, steadily gaining speed.

The shaft ended suddenly, and there was a brief moment of free-fall, before Clint hit the bottom with a metallic clang. He shifted up onto his hands and knees to crawl, until Tony landed on top of him, followed by Steve, Bruce, Loki, and lastly, Thor.

"Ow man, why did I go first?" Clint wheezed from under the pile of superheroes.

"Tony, you're stepping on my head!"

"Thor, you giant lump of Bilgesnipe lard, _get off!_ "

Watching from their individual screens, Natasha winced. "Guys, it's a stealth mission, remember?"

This is why you shouldn't send six men to do one woman's job.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Removing the air vent's covering, Loki dropped down from the ceiling, landing on all fours without a sound. Captain America landed beside him, though not as quietly. The pair straightened up, looking to the ceiling for their comrades.

The clanging from the vents above grew increasingly louder, and Loki could see small dints forming in the metal as his brother struggled to fit his robust frame through the tiny air ducts. Loki heard a rather vulgar Asgardian curse before Mjolnir smashed through the vent and his brother came tumbling out, followed by Stark, Bruce and Barton.

Loki rolled his eyes.

"Could you draw any more attention to our presence, you boorish oaf?"

Thor muttered something about 'infernal labyrinth devices' and 'mortal contraptions'.

Loki looked around. They appeared to have entered a small archive, of sorts. He spotted the door on the far side of the room and moved towards it, unlocking it with a little magic.

' _Left.'_ Natasha answered his unasked question.

Rogers took point, falling naturally into a leadership role. Natasha guided them while Loki concealed them whenever they came into human contact, though towards the end it was beginning to drain him.

Eventually they came to a large door, locked with a Bio-pad. _'That's the room with the largest energy output, that's where the Tablet is most likely to be.'_

"Allow me." Clint pushed to the front, removing the fingerprint-sensitive pad and hotwiring the locking mechanism. The door slid open with a whoosh.

Loki cloaked them in invisibility once more as the enormous room before them bustled with activity. The door opened onto a wide observation deck that ran around the circular room and looked over the floor below. Scientists in long white coats covered the deck and the lower floor, reading over papers or conferring together or writing on whiteboards. A few men dressed in green-grey militant uniforms were scattered about, all armed with semi-automatics.

' _Hawk, find a nest.'_ Natasha instructed, and Loki felt the pull on his magic as Barton drifted away.

"So if I were a big shiny rock, where would I be?" Stark whispered.

"Can you not feel it? Can you not feel the magic, the power? This way." Loki headed towards the stairs that led downward.

"Which way? We're all invisible!"

One by one, they made their way down the stairs to avoid contact with anyone. When they had all reached the bottom, Natasha's voice buzzed in their ears.

' _Guys, Clint says there's something going on to your right.'_

Loki made his way to the centre of the room where a raised platform sat, surrounded by high walls of glass. The scientists in their white coats gathered around as a man entered the chamber, dressed in militant pants and a white singlet, dogtags decorated his neck. A panel opened up in the floor and a pedestal emerged. On it rested the Tablet of Order and Chaos.

A few orders were shouted and suddenly a great rush of electricity surged through the Tablet and energy arced like lightning around the chamber.

"För Helvete!" Loki cursed as he realised the mortals' intentions.

The man pressed his hand against the Tablet and, though the roar of energy as it poured through him was thunderous, his scream could still be heard over it.

"This madness must be stopped!" He hissed as the man fell to his knees and the electricity settled.

The man raised his fist and slammed it to the ground, shattering the concrete beneath him. He raised his head and grinned, and the crowd of scientists cheered and nodded excitedly.

"Super soldiers." Rogers breathed.

The magically enhanced man stood and punched the bulletproof glass wall, shattering it and revelling in the crowd's applause, and Loki took the opportunity. He leapt up to steal past the soldier, but a shard of glass crunched under his boot, and instinctively the soldier swung out, catching Loki across the chest and slamming him into the wall opposite, leaving a large, web-like crack in the glass.

The impact shattered Loki's concentration and suddenly all the Avengers popped into view.

There was a moment of pause, of shock, before all hell broke loose.

The soldier charged him and Loki rolled to the side, flipping to his feet and leaping for the Tablet, clutching it to his chest as he rolled over the pedestal. But the soldier was now just as fast, and was on him in a split second.

Outside the chamber, the scientists fled as the guards opened fire. Stark flew up to take out those on the top deck, while Thor and Rogers fought those on the ground. But for every one they took down, more guards poured in.

Arrows flew from somewhere above and Bruce started to shift and grow, breaking free of his clothes and destroying all that crossed his path.

Loki kicked the soldier back, sending him flying across the platform, and drew his sword. Despite the fact that he was weaponless, the soldier charged him anyway, managing to land a solid punch to his ribcage, even as Loki ran him through with his sword.

The soldier's eyes went wide, blood bubbled from his mouth as Loki yanked his sword out in a swift movement, sending a line of blood across the floor and up the glass wall. The soldier lurched forward, grabbing hold of Loki's arm and wrenching it with the last of his strength, breaking the bone and jerking the Tablet from his grip, sending it skidding across the floor.

' _Loki!'_ He heard Natasha scream in his ear as a searing pain lanced up his arm. Ignoring it, he scrambled to grab the Tablet with his good arm.

"I'm fine." He grumbled; he had endured far worse.

"Thor!" He called to his brother. Thor stood as his hammer returned to his hand after soaring through enemy skulls. "Take it! Keep it safe!" Loki tossed the Tablet through the broken glass wall and his brother caught it with deft hands, nodding to him.

Loki pulled his cloak over his injured arm, pinning it close to his chest and out of the way, before leaping from the platform and jumping back into the mêlée.

Loki carved through his opponents, joining the others in the fray.

' _Alright boys, time to get a move on.'_ Natasha's voice echoes in all their ears. _'Hawk, shut it down.'_

Seconds later, a screeching alarm sounded. 'SAMOUNICHTOZHENIYA! SAMOUNICHTOZHENIYA!' A robotic voice blared.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Stark zoomed over, lifting his visor.

"Self destruct!" Loki pushed Stark's head slightly to the right and the bullet that was aimed at his face whizzed by his cheek instead.

"Hey! Let's not aim for the money-maker, okay?" And he zoomed off again, taking down more guards.

"Alright team, time to go." Rogers called. "Hey Bruce, think you could clear us a path?"

The Hulk gave a low growl before running full pelt through the concrete wall, the Avenger team following closely behind.

The Hulk burst though the outside wall with a roar, and Loki threw up a shield of blue energy behind them to deflect the bullets as they ran for the cover of the forest. As they reached the treeline, a loud blast was heard and the whole building exploded in a plume of fire and smoke, but they dare not look behind them or stop running.

They slowed when they were deep enough into the forest that the shouting could barely be heard and the smoke could barely be smelt.

' _Report! Everyone okay?'_ The others sounded off one by one. _'Loki?'_

They all looked to him and he could see their thoughts in their eyes – they all thought him weak now. Of course Loki was injured, the weakling, the Frost Giant runt, the unwanted Prince – he shook his heads to clear his thoughts. Thanos' tortures were getting to him again.

"It's a broken arm, it's not Ragnarok." He muttered grumpily. "More importantly, the Tablet, is it safe?" He questioned Thor.

From within the folds of his cloak, Thor produced the Tablet, shiny and untouched, and there was a collective sigh of relief.

"The quest has been completed! We shall return now to the dwelling of Stark and plan our next–" But Thor's tirade was disrupted by the squawking of two, unusually large ravens. "Huginn? Muninn? What news of Asgard do you bring?" Thor questioned as the two birds perched on his shoulders.

Loki had a sinking feeling that he knew why they had come.

"Um, is he talking to birds? He's seriously talking to birds." Tony glanced around wildly, checking that everyone else was seeing what he was seeing.

"My father's ravens, Huginn and Muninn. They are Thought and Memory." Loki answered sombrely.

"Preposterous!" Thor suddenly exclaimed. "Why would he do such a thing?" The ravens cawed loudly. "No, you must be mistaken." More squawking, and then Thor looked up at Loki, who was deliberately refusing to meet his brother's eye.

"Loki, what have you done?"

And for some reason, Thor's shocked expression disgusted Loki.

"Are you really so surprised, Thor?" His upper lip curled in a sneer.

"Someone wanna fill us in?" Barton grunted.

"The Infinity Gauntlet is gone from my father's Vault. Loki has stolen it." Thor growled, his eyes never leaving his brother's. And though Loki looked only to Thor, he could feel the eyes of the others piercing him, judging him, condemning him.

"Where is it?" Clint's voice was low and dangerous. He marched over so they were eye to eye. "Was this your plan all along?"

The tension among the group built as Loki remained silent, staring Clint down. Clint's hand shot forward suddenly, grasping Loki's injured arm and twisting. A sharp cry was torn forcefully from Loki's throat as pain exploded through him.

"Where is it!" Clint demanded as Loki dropped to one knee with a grunt, the intense, shooting pain enervating him.

' _Enough!'_ Natasha's roar cut through the hostility. _'We are in enemy territory, there is no time for this. Get your asses back on this plane or, so help me, I will leave you behind. Wheels up in three. Move it!'_

Clint released him, stepping back. "Cuff him."

"His arm is broken." Bruce interjected as Rogers pulled out Loki's handcuffs.

"Cuff him to me then." Stark moved to stand by Loki.

"Won't that mean only half his magic is restricted?" Rogers tightened the cuff around Stark's metallic wrist as the others marched on.

"He looks like he only has about half his magic left." He murmured, and as Rogers locked the cuff around Loki's good hand, he noticed how increasingly exhausted the demi-god looked.

He had, after all, been the only reason that they had all just escaped bullet-free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: "För Helvete!" roughly translates to "By Hela!"
> 
> BTW, 30 Seconds to Mars is my absolute favourite band, everyone should go check them out :D
> 
> And review guys! Pretty please?


	18. The Astral Plane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS for torture and gore

* * *

_Until you crash, Until you burn_   
_Until you lie, Until you learn_   
_Until you see, Until you believe_   
_Until you fight, Until you fall_   
_Until the end of everything at all_   
_Until you die, Until you're alive_

_~ "Saviour", 30 Seconds to Mars_

* * *

They trudged in silence back to the Quinjet, Stark keeping an eye on Loki from the right and Thor on his left. Natasha stood with her arms crossed at the top of the access ramp, her expression stern. "Medical bay." She directed Stark as an unwilling Loki shuffled onto the aircraft beside him.

"Get us up, Clint." He heard her call as he was led into a small, sterile-looking room. Bruce followed them in.

"Alright, let's get that shirt off and see what we're working with."

Loki didn't move. "That will be unnecessary, Doctor. Release me from these chains and I can heal myself." As he spoke, Bruce noticed something strange; small, pale lines appeared and disappeared around Loki's lips sporadically, as if flitting in and out of existence.

"Take them off." He nodded to Stark. Instantly, Loki felt his magic flow a little stronger through his body.

"Okay, how about we just put that arm in a sling until you've rested up a bit then?" Bruce offered a compromise and Loki hesitated just a moment before inclining his head stiffly.

Bruce finished fixing up the broken arm as the automatic door whooshed open and Natasha slipped through. She leant up against the doorframe, eyeing him, one hand resting on the curve of her belly.

"You gave it to Thanos, didn't you?"

Loki grinned sardonically. "Very clever, little spider."

"Wait, you did what!" Stark, his suit now powered down, looked more than a little outraged.

Natasha's eyes remained on Loki. "You said before that Thanos threatened to torture you if you did not bring him the Tesseract, so I imagine that if you failed to bring this Gauntlet to him as well, he probably would have killed you."

"After he tortured me for a few hundred years, I imagine so, yes." Loki grinned. "I needed Thanos to believe he still held my allegiance, so that he would not pursue me while I gathered the means for his demise. Not only that, but Thanos would stop at nothing to possess the Gauntlet, one way or the other. I would prefer it be on my terms rather than having him attack my home and take it by force. I stole the Infinity Gauntlet and offered it to Thanos, making it possible to swap one of the six Infinity Gems. He can still be defeated."

"So you say."

Loki raised an eyebrow. "Do you doubt me?"

Natasha's expression remained cool and calculating. "Wouldn't be the first time. What reason do we have to trust you?" And Loki's grin was dark and menacing, but Natasha detected the undercurrent of bitterness.

"None."

Natasha was silent for a moment, contemplating the situation. "You should have informed us of your plan, you should have told me."

Loki threw back his head and laughed.

"You? And why should I trust you? If I am the God of Lies then you are the Queen. Do you think you have ensnared me? Do you think you can soften the icy heart of a Frost Giant!" His cool façade shattered, and he loomed menacingly, furious. "Why should I bestow my loyalty upon you? You cannot fool the God of Lies, Natasha! I know what I am to you! A mission. A target." He towered over her, ferocious green eyes staring her down. "Your heart is as cold and dead as mine, little spider. And that thing that you carry within you, that is born of hate and deceit, it will be _just like us_!"

And Natasha struck him. Across the face. Hard.

"You overhear one conversation and you think you know everything I feel? You're an utter fool, Loki, if you think that after everything that's happened, you are still a mere target. I told Clint what he needed to hear. And yes, you were a mission, just as I was a distraction. But it's not like that anymore, is it? We have blood on our hands, Loki, we are born liars, but we don't have to be lost, and we don't have to be alone."

Loki laughed in her face. "Oh I see it now. That's the reason, isn't it? You wish for my redemption, you wish for me to repent, to join you in your fantasy of innocence. Give up, Natasha, you know nothing of what I have seen, what I have done. You know nothing!"

His arm moved suddenly as if to strike her and she tensed, but he instead punched the wall beside her, denting the metal and causing a tremor to run through the aircraft.

"YOU CANNOT SAVE ME!" He roared, and the air crackled with the energy and power of his wrath.

Bruce and Tony sat stunned, and Natasha remained silent for a long moment, head bowed. When she finally looked up, a fire burned bright in her blue eyes.

"Fine." She breathed. "If you cannot be saved, then neither can I. If you cannot wipe the red from your ledger, then what hope do I have? What is the point? Why play all these games, Loki? If you won't let me help you, then I have nothing left to offer." And with that, she wrapped her slim fingers around the necklace he had given her and tugged.

"No!" He leapt forward to stop her, but it was too late.

The gold chain snapped.

The spell was broken.

Darkness suddenly engulfed her and she could feel the pull; she zoomed through nothingness, flying. The darkness seemed to tear at her skin, making her shiver, and the breath was stolen from her lungs. The contents of her stomach churned violently as the freefall stopped as abruptly as it had started.

For a moment, there was still nothing, but then solid objects began to materialize before her. A dull plain expanded around her, finally giving her a sense of time and direction. She took in her surroundings as pale grey rock formed craters and cliffs, a landscape that she imagined an alien moon would look like.

She felt strangely light and glanced down, her eyes widened as she noticed her stomach was completely flat, as if the past few months had never even happened.

"Natasha." She heard his gentle murmur from behind her and spun around.

"Where are we? What have you done?" She demanded, running her hands over her flat stomach.

Loki licked his lips and glanced around before answering her in a hushed voice, as if afraid of speaking too loudly. "This is an astral plane, and this is not your real body, merely a projection of the mind. This is the work of the mind gem." His gaze did not leave her eyes as he waited for her to realise the implications of his words. Before she could voice her concerns, a booming voice interrupted.

"Traitorous Frost Giant, did you think you could get away with this?"

Natasha froze when Loki did, watching his eyes go wide as he slowly turned to face Thanos. The fact that Loki was afraid worried Natasha more than anything.

She glanced at the creature that intended to destroy the universe and fear froze her veins and strangled her heart. Its face was like rock and its deathly blue eyes pierced her, her muscles turning to stone under his gaze. Loki stepped in front of her, shielding her from sight, and Natasha was secretly glad for it.

"Did you think you could fool me? That I would not notice?" The ground shook as Thanos lumbered over until he loomed above their heads, the shiny gold glove glittering on his left hand.

"What is it Titan? Was there something I forgot?" Loki goaded with a smirk that enraged the beast before him.

With a roar, Thanos backhanded Loki and sent him flying into the nearest rocky crag, moon dust exploding out from beneath him.

Thanos marched over, picking Loki up by the throat, and demanded, "Give them to me, filthy mongrel! Give them to me or face my wrath!" And though the breath was being squeezed from his lungs, Loki managed to laugh, "Go to hell" he spat.

The Titan smirked, and with a swift jerk of his free arm, he pulled a blade from the folds of his cloak and stabbed it through Loki's middle.

"NO!" Natasha screamed, finally rushing forward from the spot she had been frozen to as Loki groaned in pain.

"Natasha, stop." Loki gasped, blood spluttering from his mouth, "Do nothing rash."

But Thanos had already noticed the way the two looked at each other and he started to laugh. "What's this? The Frost Giant runt, in love with a mortal?" His gazed lingered over Natasha before turning back to Loki with a laugh. "And I didn't even think Frost Giants had hearts." He sneered, before spearing Loki through his.

The blade pierced his chest and embedded into the cliff face behind. Every nerve fibre in Loki's body screamed in agony and the Titan turned from him and made for Natasha.

"You will not touch her!" Loki screamed, but Thanos merely sneered, "Will it hurt to watch me break her, traitorous prince?" and his giant hand wrapped around Natasha's arm.

As soon as his mottled skin made contact with hers, Natasha felt a jolt, a surge of power, and a flash of green light emanated from the point of contact. Thanos ripped away his hand with a howl of pain, and Natasha caught the pungent scent of burnt flesh.

"Witch!" The Titan hissed, clutching his blackened hand to his chest. "What is this form of Midgardian sorcery?"

Behind them, Loki chuckled menacingly. "I did tell you," he taunted, "not to touch her." Thanos glared daggers at the wounded god, his hatred practically a tangible thing, but then he grinned, and the animosity made Natasha shiver.

"Fine," Thanos sneered, "if I cannot _touch_ the wretched mortal, then I will make her _watch_." He flicked his gloved hand in her direction and suddenly the ground beneath her shuddered, shooting upwards and twisting and moulding itself around her hands and feet, shackling her in the grey rock.

The Titan's eyes roamed over her, shining electrically with delight and ill intent, and Natasha felt sharp fear claw her spine. Thanos slunk back towards Loki and Natasha tried desperately to wriggle her hands, to loosen her binds even the slightest.

It was not her own safety she feared for.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

"Whoa!" Iron Man lunged forwards to catch Natasha's limp body as she and Loki collapsed in unison. "Um, what just happened?"

Bruce checked them over, examining heart rate, breathing and pupil dilation. "They're unconscious. Here, help me lie them down." Bruce nodded over to the two white hospital beds in the corner.

"What about the little fella, he okay?" Bruce pulled a stethoscope from a drawer and pressed it to Natasha's abdomen and listened.

"A good, strong heartbeat. I think this little one will be quite the fighter." Bruce smiled briefly. "Go let the others know what's going on. Maybe Thor will have a better insight."

"Yes doctor!" Stark saluted him and marched off. Quickly, Bruce got to work, setting up heart monitors and checking vitals. He noticed something clutched in Natasha's palm, and he pulled her hand closer to inspect it. It was the necklace she had ripped from her throat in anger. Had that been the catalyst? He made to remove it, but paused. Perhaps it was best to wait for Thor's opinion in such matters.

As if called, the mountain of a man burst into the room. "What has happened?" He demanded. Steve and Clint followed him in as Bruce attempted to explain the situation.

"Um," Tony pointed at Clint, "who's flying the plane?"

Clint rolled his eyes, "It has auto-pilot, dummy." He moved to Natasha's side. "I told her not to accept that necklace from him. I knew something was off about it." He held the hand that cradled the jewel in his palm.

Thor peered over his shoulder and sucked in a gasp. "That is no ordinary jewellery." All eyes turned to him. "That is the Soul Gem."

Clint grit his teeth. "Is he trying to get her killed?" But Thor shook his head. "My brother is clever, son of Barton, he has hidden the gem in the one place Thanos would never think to look: in the custody of a mere mortal. He would have hidden it from Thanos' sight," He leaned in to inspect the jewel closer, "but I suspect that when the necklace was broken, the spell broke with it, and Thanos found them."

"Look!" Steve whispered, pointing to Loki's prone form. A dark patch had begun to seep through his clothing, steadily growing outwards from his middle. "Tony! Throw me the gauze and bandages." Bruce slipped into doctor mode instantly, moving to Loki's side and applying pressure to the wound.

"The hell?" Clint stared as Tony scurried to the bench to scoop up as many medical supplies as he could.

"Here, cut open his shirt so I can get to the wound." Bruce handed Tony a pair of scissors and Tony complied.

Bruce had no sooner begun to pack the wound than another one appeared over his chest. The heart monitor squealed at him and Bruce swore.

"Is he dead?" Clint sounded as though he wouldn't be particularly upset if the answer was yes. But the machine started to beep again, albeit at a slow and sporadic pace.

"It takes more than a few injuries to kill an immortal." Thor muttered sombrely as Bruce tended to the chest wound.

"Man, you guys are worse than vampires." Stark grumbled as he pressed on the abdominal lesion.

"What is happening here?" Rogers looked on worriedly, his question half directed at Thor, but Thor shook his head. "I cannot say for certain, but if Thanos has the Infinity Gauntlet, then I fear this may be his doing."

"So, like a Nightmare on Elm Street type deal?" Tony's hands were beginning to stain with the god's blood.

"Tony," Bruce murmured, "do you remember that day in the lab when we woke Loki from a nightmare?" Stark frowned, wondering was Bruce was getting at. "Yeah, of course."

"Do you remember what he said? He mentioned something about an astral plane."

Realisation dawned on Stark. "Is that stuff legit?"

Bruce nodded. "I've heard of it before, in India. They say if you meditate long enough, one can leave the corporeal body and travel in the astral plane, like a spirit who still has a living body to return to. My guess is that whatever is happening to their astral bodies is happening to their real ones as well." They all stared intently at Loki's body as one side of his face began to bruise.

"I'd say he's being tortured." Clint piped up cheerfully as Loki's index finger abruptly dropped off and splattered to the ground, blood oozing from the stump and painting the while tiles red.

"Steve, can you finish wrapping his chest?" Bruce instructed as he moved on to tend to Loki's hand. Thor knelt to scoop the severed digit off the floor. "Doctor, are you able to reattach this? It will be easier for him to repair than to regenerate anew when he awakes." His voice trembled horribly, his face looking a little green. Bruce nodded, squeezing the gentle giant's shoulder comfortingly before fetching the suturing kit.

"Looks like Nat's been tied up." Clint examined her wrists gingerly as they began to chafe and bleed before his eyes.

"Here." Tony tossed him a clean roll of bandage, and he dressed her wrists and wrapped them tightly.

"Um, Bruce," Steve called, and Bruce looked up from his stitching, "his mouth is bleeding."

"Probably from the stomach wound." Bruce muttered as he turned Loki's head to the side and opened his mouth to clear the airway.

And Loki's tongue fell to the ground with a wet splat.

"Ugh!" Clint exclaimed. Steve turned very pale and had to look away. Thor began to curse vehemently in what they assumed was Old Norse. Bruce froze in complete shock for a moment, staring wide-eyed at the organ. Even Tony looked rather pale as he murmured in full seriousness; "Wow, if the poor kid wasn't fucked up before, he certainly will be now."

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Thanos stepped back to admire his work.

The god who had once warmed her bed now merely a bloody and mutated corpse, though his chest still rode and fell raggedly. She cursed in Russian and called out to him but he barely lifted his head.

Thanos turned to her. "Why do you cry for the mongrel? You sympathise with the runt now? You abhor these tortures? You mortals did not seem to mind the last time I dumped him on your realm after a few rounds with me."

It took a moment for the sentence to click, but when it did she froze, eyes widening in shock.

Thanos brows rose at her expression. "Oh, the Prince of Lies did not tell you, did he? How I played with his mind, how I made his worst nightmares and memories come to life, to repeat for an eon with no escape. How I pulled out his insides to make myself a pretty garland? Is the disgraced Prince of Nothing really so proud?" His laughter filled her ears over the thundering of her own blood. "When I was done with him, the mongrel basically begged to do my bidding!"

She felt both numb and sensitive at the same time. Her mind whirred, struggling to comprehend this one small piece of information that changed everything, the part of the story that she had been missing.

She had suspected something similar when she saw his scarred body, but the mental torture Thanos threw at the god had a far greater impact. The slander and jibes that he cursed Loki with played on his most intimate thoughts and fears. Thanos was clearly a master at psychological torture and manipulation, better than even her or Loki.

And Loki had shouldered this, even after being rejected by his father and falling through an abyss, he kept silent and carried the pain in his heart behind a façade of nonchalance. Why? She knew the answer, as she was the very same. They deserved it; it was their punishment, their burden to bear. Loki did terrible things because he wanted people to hate him, he had been conditioned into believing that he was not worthy of love or kindness, and so he revelled in hatred and self-loathing. And now more than ever, she wanted to fight for him, to make him realise his worth; she could save him from himself, from his demons.

And she knew, in that moment, that this was more than a quest for redemption; more than a way to reassure herself that she was worthy of the second chance given to her. It had become something more. Something real. And the realisation came crashing down on her with painful certainty.

She loved him.

She was in love with Loki.

Her chest constricted painfully, squeezing her heart until she thought it might burst, and she couldn't breathe, she couldn't breathe. The feeling tightened around her and she realised it was love and, more importantly, hope. Hope that her bloodstained life could be complete, that she deserved a happy ending. She could save Loki, she could save them both.

But first she had to get them out of this mess.

Natasha had finally worn away enough rock to be able to wriggle her wrists, but it had taken time and Loki had paid for it dearly. The hole in the rock was still too small for her whole hand to fit through, but she could already feel that her hand was a bloody mess, what more would a dislocated joint hurt?

Breathe in.

She set her wrist against the rock.

Breathe out.

She twist hard and her thumb popped sickeningly out of its socket. Natasha grit her teeth against the waves of pain, but she could now slide her hand through the rocky circlet.

With one side now free, it gave her enough leverage to throw her weight against the other manacle. After a few hard blows, the rock cracked at the thinnest point and crumbled. Natasha popped her thumb back in, grimacing against the lurch of pain. Grabbing the biggest rock from the pile of rubble, she set to work on her legs, striking the rocky shackles that bound her ankles. Eventually she got herself free, her wrists and ankles a bloody and bruised mess.

She glanced up and her heart clenched, Loki was in far worse shape than her. Through the crimson that streaked his face, his bright green eyes pierced her and she could almost feel his intent, almost hear his voice in her head. She really hoped he had a plan.

Natasha charged, fearless in the face of an alien monster whose arm was as long as her whole body. Thanos noticed her attack and made to grab her, but he was big and slow and she ducked his arm, sliding along the gravel right between his feet. Coming up behind him, she spun into a kick, catching him in the ribs, but it seemed to have zero effect. She employed her Black Widow technique, leaping up to wrap her thighs around his neck and take him down, a move that normally had men on the ground in seconds, but Thanos was far too strong. He picked her up as if she were no more than an annoying kitten, and threw her bodily through the air.

Painfully, she hit the stony wall beneath Loki's dangling feet. She glanced up to where he was impaled on the rock, but Loki was no longer there.

Using her as a distraction, Loki had pulled the blade from his own chest and freed himself. He swayed dangerously, but remained on his feet, sword in hand and hatred shining in his eyes as he glared at the War Titian. With what seemed to be the last piece of strength he possessed, Loki hefted the blade in his hand, and with an aim to rival Barton, he launched it like a spear.

In the next instant he was by her side, pulling her close, and as soon as his skin brushed hers, she was sucked into a swirl of light and dark. She didn't know if the sword had hit its mark, but she could hear Thanos' howl of rage and frustration before a rushing noise engulfed everything.

Her world stilled again, and when Natasha dared to open her eyes, she was blinded by white lights. Voices murmured distantly before becoming stronger, until she could recognise the speakers.

"Nat, hey Nat. You're okay. Take it easy now, you're safe." Clint's familiar voice pierced the fog and she sat up slowly.

"What happened?" She asked, taking in the sight of her bandaged wrists and ankles.

"We were hoping you could tell us." Steve looked her over with concerned eyes.

"Loki!" She breathed. Her fogginess evaporated as she whipped her head around and her wide eyes locked onto the dark figure on the bed beside her, blood everywhere. She scrambled off the bed but forgot that she was carrying extra weight around the middle once again, and overbalanced. Clint caught her with strong arms, urging her to sit back down and rest, but his pleas fell on deaf ears.

Natasha moved to the bedside as Loki's eyes opened, green orbs rolling around in a daze before finally focusing on her. He opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was blood.

He rolled to his side and they all subconsciously took a step back as blood poured from his mouth and splattered onto the floor. He moved his good hand to cover his mutilated mouth and his eyes closed in concentration as a faint green glow seeped out between his fingers. Minutes ticked by as they waited silently, unsure.

Loki flopped back onto the bed with a gasp, clutching the wound over his heart in pain. Natasha returned to his bedside to calm him and noticed all his old scars were now visible – his magic was exhausted.

"You did it Loki," she whispered, taking his hand gently and ghosting her fingers through his bloodied hair. "We're safe. Rest now." Her touch soothed him but he forced his eyes to focus.

"Natasha," his voice was painful, rough and gravelly, "the necklace." Glancing down, she noticed she still held the necklace he had given her tightly in her grasp. "Put it on. You promised."

The gem seemed to swirl brighter in response as she gazed into its depths, drawing her in. Reaching up, she clasped the chain around her neck, running her fingers over the cool stone as it dropped to her chest.

Now content, Loki permit himself to sink into the blackness and allow his broken body to heal. She studied his face a moment, and her heart retched for the burden he bore. Natasha broke through her melancholy when she noticed that her comrades were also staring at her god's broken body. She knew Loki would be horrified to be seen in such a vulnerable state.

Silently she left the room, and the others followed without command, awaiting her explanation. She sat heavily on the bench along one side of the plane. Clint walked past her to check on the cockpit and the others took the bench opposite her.

Clint stalked back in, expression stormy, "So, give me one good reason why I'm not putting an arrow through that psychopath's heart right now?"

Natasha glared at him, "Well number one, that wouldn't kill him anyway," she snapped, before calming her expression and addressing the others, "number two, this is largely Thanos' doing."

Bruce leaned forward, watching her intently. "Natasha, what exactly happened?"

Natasha leaned back in her seat, weighing up her words before deciding that they needed to know the truth if they were all to work together to defeat Thanos, even if Loki would be furious with her.

"Thanos took us. To some kind of moon, or maybe it was just an illusion, I don't know. Thanos figured out that Loki had stolen the Soul gem from the Gauntlet. He captured me and tortured Loki, and not just physically. He asked Loki about the missing gem, about us; our plan, our weaknesses. But he told Thanos nothing. Even when I had one of the gems in my hand the whole time, he could have easily ratted me out, but didn't. I know you guys may not trust him, but trust his hate. He will fight against Thanos until the end."

Her team all looked very solemn, considering her words, and the silence stretched on. Taking a deep breath, Natasha divulged her last revelation.

"There's something else. Something Thanos let slip. It wasn't the first time he'd tortured Loki. He was a captive, for who knows how long, before he first came here. Thanos put the idea in his head that he could prove his worth by ruling over earth. After Loki fell from Asgard, Thanos tortured him until his will was broken enough to do his bidding." Looks of horror met her from all sides. Thor's fists shook with rage, but when he spoke, his voice was controlled and filled with regret.

"That account is not entirely correct."

Natasha glanced at him, brows drawn in confusion. His deep blue eyes met hers and the drowning sorrow in them was like a bullet to the heart. "Loki did not fall from Asgard." His voice was soft, "I had him. I could have easily pulled him to safety. He did not slip. He did not fall. He let go." Thor's voice broke, and they all keenly felt the heartache. Even Clint looked lost for words.

How long had he been in that Void? Falling through blackness? Waiting to die? Loki had taken one hit after the other, and it had finally worn him down, shattered him into pieces. And for the first time, Natasha doubted herself. Could she really fix him? Was he even capable of being fixed? Could she really save them both?

One thing she knew for sure, she would do whatever it took, because despite what anyone said, Loki deserved to finally be happy.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Loki let his magic heal his wounds, and restore him to his full strength. His consciousness returned with his strength and he opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was red.

Her hair cascaded over his chest, coiling over the dried blood. He shifted slightly beneath her and she woke instantly, head shooting up and bright blue eyes boring into his. And in the blink of an eye, her lips were on his, soft and smooth and warm. Before he could even respond to her need, she pulled away and slapped him across the face. He froze in shock.

"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell Thor, your own brother?" Her voice shook in her effort to control it. "You didn't have to bear this burden; the others would not have judged you so harshly if they had known, it wasn't your fault, and if they had known…"

"And that's exactly why I told no one." He interrupted. "It is my fault, it is my own doing, and pity would only cloud one's judgement."

Tears had welled in her eyes and blurred the sight of him. "You are a proud fool, Loki." Her voice broke on his name and she hung her head so her hair covered her face. He could not cry for his own sake, and so she shed his tears for him.

"No, Natasha." He sat up, and with gentle fingers, lifted her chin to greet watery blue eyes. "Don't." Cupping her cheek, he wiped away the tear with his thumb. "Do not cry for me."

Grasping her arm, he guided her onto the bed beside him and she buried her face in his neck. His arms wrapped around her, cocooning her in warmth and strength. "Hush now little spider, there is a war coming; a little thing like this is not worth your tears."

But it wasn't a little thing, and he was worth more than a thousand of her tears.

She breathed in his scent, calming enough to replace her mask and set aside all emotion. She could have happily stayed in his embrace forever, but Clint's voice brought them back to reality.

_'Home sweet home everyone. Strap in for landing.'_


	19. The Sleepover

* * *

_The secret side of me I never let you see_   
_I keep it caged but I can't control it_   
_So stay away from me, the beast is ugly_   
_I feel the rage and I just can't hold it_   
_Why won't somebody come and save me from this?_   
_Make it end!_

_~ "Monster", Skillet_

* * *

Stark Tower was a flurry of activity as they touched down. They had barely stepped a foot off the Quinjet when a legion of armed SHIELD agents descended on Loki, tying him up tighter than a Christmas present. Apparently Fury had gotten wind of Loki's betrayal.

Natasha tried vehemently to force the agents to stand down, but they clearly had orders from the top. Clint pulled her back, urging her not to get in the way.

As they carted away a sullen Loki, she marched off, fuming silently, to find the Director. She slammed open the conference room door, prepared to give Fury a piece of her mind, only to find she had already been beaten to it.

Four angry Avengers lay into Fury, and it made Natasha pause. Tony, Bruce and Steve defended Loki passionately as Thor paced anxiously, and Natasha felt an overwhelming sense of pride in her teammates. It seemed she wasn't the only one who had seen the good in Loki.

Clint followed her in as the others attempted to explain the situation to the Director, who was looking rather annoyed, even if a little taken aback by the sudden camaraderie.

"I don't care what his excuse is, he handed over a weapon that can destroy the universe to the enemy, that makes him _our_ enemy."

"Sir, he had no choice." Steve pleaded.

"Cut the poor guy a break."

Fury raised his eyebrows, "Am I hearing you right, Stark? You want me to cut the homicidal dictator a break?"

Stark shrugged and Bruce attempted to back him up. "There are many external circumstances here that you aren't aware of."

"So _inform me_."

Natasha cut in. "Sir, if I may. Loki may not have followed the plan, but he did what he thought was necessary. He double-crossed Thanos in order to buy us more time."

"You mean to buy himself more time." Clint leaned against the wall, arms crossed and unconvinced.

"We're all on the same team, Clint." She growled. She turned back to address Fury, "Regardless, Loki is still our only hope of defeating the target." She heard Clint mumble, "I thought he _was_ the target" but ignored him.

Fury eyed her a moment, fingers steeped in front of his chin. "You're right about one thing, Agent Romanov, Loki is still our best shot in this war. However, you were supposed to be his handler, you were supposed to gain his trust and learn his plans, and he never told you. Loki is clearly unpredictable, even for you Natasha. You're off the case."

Natasha opened her mouth to protest angrily, but Fury held up a hand to silence her.

"I'll release Loki on one condition, one of you is to accompany him _at all times_ , do I make myself clear?" There was a mumbled chorus of "Yes, Sir" and they were all dismissed.

Immediately she made for the elevator to seek out the captive Prince, but was stopped by Tony and Bruce.

"Hey Red, why don't you get some rest? Bruce and I will take the first shift. We'll take good care of him, cross my heart." Tony painted the sign of a cross over his chest with his finger, and though Natasha eyed them suspiciously at first, she had come to realise that she wasn't the only one who was beginning to care for Loki. Plus she actually could use a nap. Maybe a bubble bath.

"Alright, fine," she sighed, "but Bruce, you had better keep an eye on those two." She waggled a finger at Stark and he scoffed, "What? Why is he in charge? I'm the oldest!"

"Well, technically Loki is the oldest." Bruce corrected him as they walked off in the direction of the elevator.

Instead of heading for her bedroom however, Natasha went to find the other Asgardian prince.

"Thor, you know you're not supposed to use the toaster by yourself." She found him in the kitchen trying to make pop tarts.

"Ah, Lady Natasha, my apologies." He stepped back to allow her to take the pastries out of the toaster, unwrap them, and then reinsert them into the toaster.

Whilst they were cooking, she turned back to face Thor. "You've been pretty quiet through all of this."

Thor looked down at his large hands and frowned. "In our youth, Loki and I were as close as two brothers ever were. We played together, we fought together, we grew together. But now I know not how he thinks, I know nothing of his plans, and I am perplexed as to how I managed to lose my only brother and not even realise it."

She nodded, sympathizing with the giant of a man. "Loki has been through a lot. He was angry, and bitter, and spiteful, and lost. But that doesn't mean he can't be saved."

Thor rubbed the golden bristles on his chin, his frustration at his uselessness clear. "I cannot help but think that if I had not been so blind in our youth, had I listened to him, had I known… well things may have been very different. I was no brother to him, when he needed me to be. When he fell to the Void we all thought him dead, we mourned him. We did not look for him. I did not look for him. And he suffered greatly for our mistake."

The toaster popped behind them, but neither acknowledged it. Thor's azure eyes met hers and in their depths she saw his guilt, his heartache and sorrow, and she also saw his determination, his love. "I failed him as a brother once; I will not do so again."

She held his gaze silently for a long moment, face impassive. "Good." She gave a sharp nod, and the slightest of smiles broke through. "You all keep saying there's a war coming, and when it does, whether Loki admits it or not, he will want his brother by his side." She clasped his arm and left him to his sugar-filled pastries.

As she left the dining room, Thor popped his head out from the kitchen. "Lady Natasha." He called to her, and she halted. "Don't give up on my brother." And Natasha bestowed the Crown Prince of Asgard with a rare smile.

"I don't plan to."

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Loki stared.

The guard stared back.

This had been going on for over an hour now; two other guards had already come and gone.

A bead of sweat rolled down the side of the man's face.

The soldier shifted ever so slightly.

Loki broke out his most dark and sinister grin and the mortal gulped audibly and clutched his weapon tight. He tried to look stern but the shaking of his hands betrayed him. Luckily for him, the guard was saved from further torment when the heavy reinforced doors slid open with a whoosh.

"Alright Game of Thrones, can you stop disembowelling SHIELD agents with your eyes please?"

Pure relief washed over the nameless agent's face as Tony and Bruce walked in. Loki leaned back in the chair he was cuffed to, still smiling wickedly. "Have you the honour of bestowing the punishment, Tony Stark?"

Tony frowned at the god's choice of words. "Well that's not what I'd call it."

Loki quirked an eyebrow, looking sarcastically amused. "What would you call it then?" Tony broke into a wide grin and Bruce looked resigned to his fate.

"Slumber party!"

Confusion replaced Loki's mask of cool calm. How could one party whilst they slept?

He soon found out as he was released and practically dragged from the room and up to Tony's penthouse floor.

Pepper greeted Tony with a brief kiss. "Alright, everything's set." She muttered to her partner before addressing the rest of them. "Well I'm about to head out, but before I go I'll get you boys a drink? Tony, usual scotch?"

Tony clutched his heart dramatically, "Babe, you are a goddess."

Pepper rolled her eyes but smiled anyway. "Bruce, a margarita?" Banner nodded, muttering his thanks. "Loki, what do you like?"

And Loki, for the life of him, could not figure out what game they were playing.

Why had they led him here? Was this some sort of calm before the storm? To lull him into a false sense of security before the punishment began? Perhaps they were trying to get him relaxed enough to divulge information? That would never happen. And why was Tony's redheaded beau offering him a drink like a long-unseen friend? Perhaps she meant to poison him. If that was indeed the case, then she could not have looked happier about it. Her smile was blinding; warm and friendly.

"How about I just surprise you?" Pepper broke the awkward silence that had ensued as Loki mentally dissected the situation. Pepper made her way to the bar to start pouring drinks, "I've noticed you're a bit of a sweet tooth, how about a cocktail?" She began to gather ingredients on the bench.

Tony snorted, "You should make him a Zombie, if he's anything like Thor he could drink three of those and not even feel a buzz."

The redhead smiled at him encouragingly, "Ah, not a lightweight then? Is that an Asgardian thing?" Loki did not answer, instead taking a seat on the bar stool and watching her intently as she concocted his drink. Tony and Bruce looked at each other and shrugged, moving to the lounge room to pick a movie to watch.

Loki read the labels, attempting to find a poison he recognised, but he knew none of the names. He picked up a bottle of clear liquid that she had just poured into the tall metal container and sniffed it. He reeled back as the scent burnt the inside of his nose and pushed the bottle as far away from him as possible. Pepper fought to hide her snicker in case Loki thought she was laughing at him, which, technically, she was.

She poured the shaken drink into a cocktail glass and sat it before him with a smile, but he merely stared at it curiously, and she seemed to grasp what was bothering him.

"It's safe, its mostly rum and fruit juice. Here, watch." And she brought the drink to her lips to take a swig, showing him it was harmless. This seemed to appease him as he took a tentative sip, letting the flavours swirl around his tongue. He must have decided he liked it because he then proceeded to down half the drink.

He stopped suddenly when Pepper started to laugh at him. "Jeez, you Asgardians could out-drink even Tony." She chuckled, but a slight frown creased Loki's brow, his lips pursing.

"I am not Asgardian."

She sensed his sombre mood and her smile died. "Even if you weren't born there, it's still you home, isn't it?" And his reply made a sadness that she couldn't quite place, wash over her.

"Is it?"

Pepper made Loki another Zombie before she left, kissing Tony on the top of his head and warning them all to be good. Tony had done some redecorating, pushing aside all the furniture in the room to create, what was essentially, a giant pillow fort. Mattresses, blankets, pillows and beanbags were all piled in the centre of the room; two brown tufts of hair that were Tony and Bruce peeked out from under the fluffy chaos.

"Take a seat, Rock of Ages. We're having a Harry Potter marathon!" Loki raised an eyebrow, having no idea what Stark was talking about. Staring at the pile of plushness, he grew increasingly uncomfortable with the whole situation, but were he to escape the room he would most certainly be imprisoned again, or worse.

Glancing around the room, his eyes lingered on the baby grand piano pushed into the corner, before folding himself neatly on a corner of the mattress.

Bruce followed his gaze, "Do you play?" Loki glanced once again at the piano before dropping his eyes to the floor. "Once. But that was a very long time ago." He missed the way the doctor's mouth twisted in pity.

"You started it yet?" Another voice joined them.

"Right on time Capsicle! Pour yourself a drink. Actually scratch that, just bring the whole bottle over, will you?" Steve rolled his eyes but did as he was asked.

The three men were loud as the movie played, but Loki paid no mind to their conversation, focusing instead on the screen. A school for magic? Ridiculous. And why did they need sticks to cast spells? And this 'Harry' character's eyes were certainly _not_ green like his mother's. And why would he want to see them again anyway? They left him, a mere babe, alone.

By the end of the third movie, Steve was the only completely sober one. Tony was entirely off his face, as usual, Bruce was drunk, and even Loki was beginning to feel a little tipsy, having had an entire bottle of rum to himself.

"Victor I love you, Victor I do!" Stark drunkenly joined in as the Weasley twins teased their youngest brother. "When we're apart my heart beats only for you!"

"Oh, shut up!" Bruce flung a pillow at Tony and it smacked him square in the face. Stark looked stunned for a moment before a Cheshire grin spread over his face.

"PILLOW FIGHT!" He bellowed, picking up the nearest pillow and beating Bruce with it. Bruce swung his pillow wildly in attempt to fend off Tony's attack, but instead smacked Steve. "Now you've done it!" The good captain yelled, before jumping into the feathery fray.

Feathers and stuffing floated through the air as the three grown men beat each other senseless with fluffy pillows, like war-mongering Poodles.

"Oi, Reindeer Games!" Loki looked up from the TV just in time to catch a faceful of pillow as Tony brought his weapon down on Loki's head with all his might. Stark's triumphant grin froze in place at the dark glare Loki shot him. He wrenched the offending pillow from Tony's grasp and flung it. It smacked Tony in the head, bowling him over with its force, knocked Bruce's glasses from his face, and sailed across the room to hit the piano, a discord of notes echoing loudly.

"Hey!" Stark whined, "My piano!"

Steve scoffed, "Tony, you don't even play." Stark made a face.

"Hey, Loki can play." Bruce unhelpfully blurted, and they all turned to gape at him. He tried to glare them down, but they were too drunk to notice, apart from Steve who just looked amused.

"I think not." He shot Tony his most disdainful scowl, but Tony paid him no mind, grabbing him by the hand and, despite Loki's protest, dragged him over to the piano. They gathered around him, shouting drunken encouragement, and Loki was just tipsy enough to oblige them.

His fingertips hovered over the keys and he almost felt the ivory calling out to him, begging to be played.

A beautiful melody poured forth and Loki closed his eyes, losing himself in the music. Well-practiced fingers flew over the keyboard, a thousand years of existence bleeding out into a haunting harmony.

A fall followed the crescendo, and as Loki finished the piece, Steve felt the tears pull at his eyes. Bruce took off his glasses to clean them on his shirt, clearing the fog. And Tony stared, and stared, open-mouthed and speechless. "Wow. Holy shit, Loki. That was…"

"Beautiful." Steve supplied when Tony couldn't find the words.

Loki coughed, willing his cheeks not to burn. "Ahem. We are missing the movie." They turned to view the screen that was now showing Harry's name being selected from the Goblet.

"Oh, shit!"

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Steve was riding his old 1940's Harley again, wind whipping his shirt about, his lungs filling with the fresh countryside air, and warm arms wrapped around his middle. He pulled over in a nice grassy area, tall redwoods dappled the sun and housed the singing of birds. Peggy dismounted from behind him. Even the summer sunlight shimmering on her auburn hair was not as radiant as her smile. Her smile made his chest swell; she was still the prettiest thing he had ever seen.

He slid off his bike and she held out her hand to him. He reached out to entwine their fingers and she parted her pretty pink lips to say something. But all that came out was a low, throaty scream.

Another pained shout pulled Steve further from his slumber, and as he woke he realised it had not been all in his head.

In the darkness, a steady slew of whimpers and low growls cut the night, and somehow, Steve just knew it was Loki. All three men here had nightmares sometimes, but that was from thirty or so years of difficult life. Loki had suffered through a thousand.

Carefully, so as not to wake the others, Steve crawled through the masses of pillows and blankets. In the few beams of moonlight that shone through the blinds, he watched Loki's pale face twist in agony. He whimpered and growled through clenched teeth, sounding like he was biting back a scream. Steve's hands fluttered uselessly over the god, unsure whether to wake him and risk his wrath or continue to let him suffer in his dreamworld. Then Steve caught what he was muttering.

"No, no..." He twitched in his sleep, head jerking form side to side. "It burns…stop…" Steve frowned, wondering if this was what Natasha meant when she said Loki was tortured.

"Kill me…just let me die…kill…" Steve's eyes widened at this. What had they done to him? What had this man endured? Steve's hate for Thanos grew increasingly stronger.

Hesitantly, Steve reached out, his hand hovering uncertainly for a moment before grasping Loki on the shoulder and shaking him roughly awake. Steve instantly regretted it.

Loki's hand was around his throat before his eyes had even opened. Steve toppled backwards, Loki on top of him and slowly crushing his larynx. If he hadn't been so busy trying to breathe, Steve would have been impressed at how strong the god was.

Loki's eyes were wide and wild, his irises black in the darkness. Steve yanked desperately at Loki's hands, trying to pry his fingers open. "Leave me alone! Get out of my head!" Loki growled above him through clenched teeth, desperation tainting his words. Steve gurgled, kicking out with his feet as his head began to spin. He heard movement to the left.

"What the… What's going on?" Bruce's voice cut through the darkness, and everything seemed to happen at once.

"Hey! Cut it out!"

"JARVIS! Lights!"

"Loki! Loki, wake up!"

The lights flickered to life as Tony wrapped his arms around Loki, pulling him bodily off the Captain and shoving him to the side. Bruce knelt over Steve as he coughed and wheezed, his lungs sucking in much-needed oxygen.

Loki seemed to come to, eyes darting rapidly from each of their faces, before coming to rest on Steve's purpling neck. His eyes locked on the door and he scrambled to his feet, ready to bolt. He got about three steps before Stark tackled him to the ground, yanking his arms back and kneeling on his spine.

"It's alright, Stark. Let him go." Steve croaked, his voice a little hoarse from the trauma. "He was asleep. He didn't mean to. He was having a nightmare."

Stark stared at Steve, hesitating a second before sliding off the Norse god and gingerly releasing his hands. Loki sat up slowly, eyeing them all wearily as if they would attack him at any moment, his hair fell over his face in a chaotic mess from the struggle. His nostrils flared, fingers twitching slightly as the adrenalin still coursed through his veins.

Steve cleared his throat. "It's alright Loki, it was just a dream. I shouldn't have tried to wake you like that. I'm really sorry."

Loki sat frozen, his expression hard but tinged with tension, his eyes shifting between the three of them. "No hard feelings Lokes, come on." Tony reached out to help him up but Loki flinched away violently, falling backwards and hands flying out on instinct. Magic crackled at his fingertips, but didn't go anywhere.

"Loki," Bruce tried, holding his hands out unthreateningly, "Steve's fine, he's okay, we know it wasn't your fault. No one wants to hurt you, okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm a soldier, I'm tougher than I look." Steve smiled kindly, trying to be encouraging. Loki stared down at his hands, as if seeing them for the first time, and Tony could only imaging what was going through his mind.

Tony tried again, offering his hand slowly this time. "Let's just all go back to sleep, yeah?" Loki's hands dropped dejectedly into his lap, but he didn't look up. "Leave me be… Please." He murmured so quietly that only Stark heard him. Tony's hand fell sadly to his side, and he turned to the others and shrugged.

Steve and Bruce retreated back to the beds, giving Loki space. Tony was inclined to follow them, but Loki looked so utterly lost – hollow, broken, a shell of what he once was – that Tony stayed where he was, carefully watching the god's blank expression.

"Lights please JARVIS." He heard Bruce call softly, and the room was thrown into shadow, illuminated only by the moonlight.

"Loki," he murmured, a hushed conversation between children who had already been put to bed, "you know we get it, right?" There was no answer, not even recognition that Tony had spoken, but he continued on regardless.

"Out of all the people on this planet, you know we would understand the most, right? I won't pretend like you don't know what our deal is, our stories. Especially mine. And Bruce's. So we get it. But, Jesus Loki, if you just keep it bottled up like this, keep hiding from the world and pretending everything is fine when it's not, then you're going to explode. Or go mad. Or something."

There was still no response, Loki just stared down at his hands – hands covered in blood – his eyes wide and shining in the pale wash of moonlight.

Tony sighed. "Look. All I'm saying is, you're safe here with us. No one wants to hurt you, we wouldn't _let_ anyone hurt you. You don't have to _hide_. After what you've been through, it's nothing to be ashamed of. Heck, when I got back from Afghanistan, I was a blubbering mess. You should have seen me." He gave a humourless chuckle.

He fell into silence, and Tony's ears buzzed with it. Loki remained a lifeless statue, and after a moment, Tony gave in. "I'm not really the mushy type but, I guess, I just wanted you to know we understand, Loki. We do. We _do_. And we're _here_." Tony's gaze lingered on the man who drowned in his own sorrow, before retreating back to his blanket fort, leaving Loki to his thoughts.

They watched him for a while, but Loki was as still as a statue; he didn't move, didn't even look like he was breathing. Tony exchanged worried glances with the others. He bunkered down, pretending to snuggle in to sleep.

Steve stayed awake, watching silently for an unknowable time, before Loki stood and moved towards the window. He sat by the wall, hugging his knees to his chest and resting his head against the cool glass pane. The moonlight glowed white across his face, and shrouded the rest of his silhouette in darkness. He didn't look like he would be sleeping again tonight.

Bone-crushing anguish tightened Steve's chest. A broken Loki was one of the saddest things Steve had ever seen. He almost preferred it when he was evil.

Steve eventually drifted off to sleep, wishing hateful things on the Mad Titan that had made the Norse god this way.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Loki woke to the distant sound of giggling and hushed whispers. He cracked open one emerald eye, shutting it again instantly when the sunlight blinded him. He turned away from the window, blinking rapidly until his eyes adjusted.

He heard a strange gushing noise and glanced across the room to where the two scientists were crouched over the Captain, huge grins plastered on their faces. Tony looked up and saw Loki was awake, and hurriedly waved him over.

Loki hesitated a moment, sensing mischief, before he silently crept closer, settling down just outside the mass of pillows and blankets. Stark loomed over the Captain, holding a long, white feather. Bruce sat a little further back, cradling a strange looking canister that was labelled 'cream'. Steve lay curled up on his side, snoring softly. In the palm of his left hand sat a pile of something white and fluffy-looking. Loki felt a smirk twitch at his lips – he could see where this was going.

Gently Stark brushed the tip of the feather over the sleeping Captain's cheek, trying to stifle a giggle. Steve's nose twitched, his head flinching away a few times before his hand came up to shoo away the strange sensation.

The cream exploded, covering half his face in white with a wet splat. Steve sat bolt upright, suddenly wide awake and disorientated.

"What the. Ah! STARK!" Steve bellowed, trying to wipe the cream from his face as the two scientists fell to the ground, clutching their stomachs as they rolled around laughing. Steve whacked Tony with a pillow, about to give him a piece of his mind, when he caught Loki snickering behind his hand out of the corner of his eye, and all his anger just seemed to seep away.

Instead, Steve snatched the can of whipped cream from Bruce's grasp and sprayed Tony in the face, just to see Loki smile a little more.

Howls of laughter echoed around the room, until they were interrupted by JARVIS' mechanical voice. "Sir, your guests have arrived." Stark lobbed one last glob of cream at Bruce's forehead, "Ah, perfect timing."

They cleaned up and followed Stark down to the common lounge room, Loki trailing reluctantly a ways behind them. Thor, Clint and Natasha had already arrived, greeting the four newcomers; one of which Loki recognised as Thor's beau. One of the males with thinning brown hair rushed forward to greet Steve enthusiastically, but froze when he saw Loki hovering in the doorway. "Um, not to alarm anybody, but Public Enemy Number One is standing right behind you." All heads turned to Loki, who merely quirked an eyebrow.

"Yeah about that. You may have missed a few memos while you were working on your tan in Tahiti."

The man held Loki's gaze and there was a burning in them that had Loki curious. "Have we met?" He kept his tone haughty and a sly smirk touched the corners of his mouth to hide his true interest. The man seemed taken aback at first before recovering his calm demeanour.

"You could say that. I'm Agent Phil Coulson. Clearance Level 7. Liaison of the Avengers. Guy you killed." He extended his hand expectantly but Loki merely glanced at it curiously and ignored it.

He addressed his brother instead. "I thought Midgardians could not return once dead. Is that not the essence of being a mortal?"

Thor hesitated, and the Agent answered for him. "I had a little help. Technically, I stopped breathing for about forty seconds."

"Didn't you tell him he murdered one of our guys?" Stark called to Natasha who sat on the couch alongside Jane and Darcy. "And then, didn't you tell him that he actually didn't?"

Natasha shrugged half-heartedly. "It never came up."

Stark's mouth twisted in crude humour. "Did you guys actually talk about anything or did you just f-"

"Tony!" Bruce hissed as he slapped his hand over the billionaire's mouth. Natasha just glared.

Steve looked thoughtful. "So, if you don't even remember killing Coulson, then how much of the invasion do you actually remember?"

Loki hesitated, unwilling to answer. He glanced at Natasha, who seemed to read his thoughts, knowing how he felt about weakness and pity, but she nodded in encouragement. "The main events. Flashes of memory. Nothing exceedingly detailed." His response was clipped.

Bruce voiced what they were all thinking. "Just how far under Thanos' control were you?"

At this, Loki's expression turned dark. "My will cannot be manipulated like that of Barton's. I am not so weak minded." A smirk flashed across his lips and Clint snarled. "I was not under Thanos' control, nor was I of my own sound mind. The situation was, and is still, far more complex than that." There was a moment of foreboding silence as they all thought of the imminent future.

"Well, that's why we're here I guess." The last guest spoke up; the only other human that Loki recognised, Dr. Eric Selvig.

"Sure is. Let's get you guys settled. I'll show you to your rooms." Stark led them from the room, chatting amicably.

Loki stared down at the mortals as they passed him in the doorway, noting with satisfaction that they all seemed rather wary of him. He moved then to stand by his brother. "What part are they to play in this war? They cannot fight, they are mere mortals."

Thor's eyes lingered on the doorway after his love a moment longer, before turning to Loki. "Indeed. They are not warriors but great thinkers and inventors. I believe they have been enlisted to aid in the building of weapons."

"Moveover, one weapon in particular." Natasha added. "Stark's trying to build a weapon that will temporarily disable magic."

Loki cocked his head to the side thoughtful. "Interesting." Then he grinned. "I presume they will soon come to procure my aid, then. For one can only fight magic with magic."

Loki, of course, was correct in this assumption, though a frustrated Tony Stark would not figure this out until much later, and Loki was far too amused by his frustration to tell him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The piano piece I had in mind when imagining Loki play is similar to 'Life before war' by Kenji Kawai, check it out, it's quite good. And yes, the Zombie is an actual drink, and yes, it is HIGHLY alcoholic lol. If you want to try it, I suggest drinking no more than two, as we all know bad things happen when you drink too much rum :D haha.
> 
> Also, I was thinking I should have a poll on what you guys think the baby should be, boy or girl? I haven't quite decided yet. And any name suggestions would be helpful too :)
> 
> As always, I love hearing from you! 3


	20. The Machine

* * *

As the week passed, things seemed to calm and settle into a routine in the Avengers household. Bruce, Tony, Eric and Jane worked away silently (and sometimes not so silently) in Stark's lab. Coulson did not stay; he was in the process of putting together a new team. Clint kept mostly to himself, though he and Darcy were being increasingly found in each other's company. Loki appeared to be avoiding Natasha ever since the incident on the quinjet, and so her relationship with her partner effortlessly slid back into place without further comment, and though she was no longer on active duty, she and Clint often visited the firing range together.

Natasha also often found herself in the company of the girls, who had taken to fussing over her, or rather, the large bump that she carried. Pepper was kind, motherly and, as always, very organised. She arranged a spa day, accompanied by SHIELD security of course, and even Jane took a break from the testosterone-filled lab to join them. It had been such a long time since Natasha last truly relaxed, and she found herself rather enjoying the pampering and idle small talk. Until the topic turned to certain otherworldly beings.

"It's just the accent," Jane gushed, "and the way he speaks, it just has such romance. Nothing we have on Earth could ever compare."

Darcy hummed in agreement as she wiggled her shiny purple toes. "Yeah, even Loki has a sexy voice, y'know, when he's not threatening to destroy cities and stuff." Darcy then turned to Natasha, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Speaking of which, I've always wondered. What's he like in bed?"

Pepper laughed and Jane sputtered, "Darcy! You can't ask that!" Natasha had to fight to keep her expression neutral and the blush from her cheeks. "That's classified."

Darcy pouted, "Oh boo. That's no fun. Spill, woman!"

Then Pepper ganged up on her too. "What exactly is going on with you two anyway? All I know is what Tony tells me, which isn't much since he never pays attention."

"That's also classified." And she couldn't help the tiny smirk that crossed her face as the girls booed her.

"Don't give us that! Look at that smile. You liiiiike him, you know you liiiiike him." Darcy began to sing.

"It's…complicated." Natasha shrugged. "But, there's a lot more to Loki than you might think. Every saint has a past. Every sinner has a future." She trailed off as she realised they were all staring at her in silence.

Darcy leaned back into her massage chair with a sigh. "Man, you two are _made_ for each other, being all dark and mysterious and everything."

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Loki, on the other hand, would have been content with his own solitude, however since he was still required to remain in the presence of at least one Avenger, he had taken to his brother's company, much to Thor's delight.

In fact, Thor was just beginning to feel like he was finally regaining his little brother, and that perhaps Loki would now forgive him for all his misdeeds. For since his first banishment to Midgard, Thor had grown as a person, and in that time of deep sorrow after Loki fell from Asgard, Thor had thought on his brother, and how he had unintentionally wronged him, even as children; small gestures that could have made all the difference, and he felt deep anguish and regret. He could see now what his pride and arrogance had blinded him to before. That his brother was broken, hurt, vengeful; and knew that the fault lay upon him and his father, and what they had done, and what they had failed to do.

But, Thor also saw hope for his brother, even if he himself did not think he could be saved. And he knew that salvation lay in the arms of the Lady Natasha, for those two were akin to one soul, torn asunder, finally reunited. All Loki had to do was let go of his hate and his pride.

And perhaps it was because he had no siblings of his own, but Tony could not comprehend the strength of the bond between the two brothers, who technically weren't even brothers.

Tony and Bruce were taking a break from the lab and were in the kitchen getting coffee, Natasha reading quietly in the corner, when they heard loud voices fast approaching.

"By Valhalla brother! I admit that your magic has grown strong, why must you torture me with it so?"

"Do not impugn my magic, for you rely too heavily upon your strength of arm and weapon. Do you lament now that you did not harken to Bjorn's Teachings of Spells?"

"By Odin's beard, I do!"

And then they heard him laugh, haughty, yet eerily delicate, and nobody could recall if they had ever heard Loki laugh so freely before, or at all.

"Speaking of Three-eyed Oxen, I could eat a whole one right now!" Thor declared as he entered the room, smelling of sweat and leather.

"Thor, we spoke not of Three-eyed Oxen!" Loki followed his brother into the room and his wide smile erased centuries from his face.

They were both dressed in training outfits; barefooted, loose dark pants, and fitted vests of sleeveless leather. The light sheen of sweat made his pale skin glow and Loki smirked as Natasha's eyes followed him hungrily over the top of her book as he crossed the room.

Thor had already begun to load generous amounts of food from the fridge into his large arms. "Whoa, did you invite all of Asgard down for dinner without telling me?" Tony looked a little alarmed that the deities had almost cleaned out his fridge in one sitting.

"Nay, Man of Iron! Simply a mid-afternoon snack. Would you join us?" Tony grimaced at the amount of food that Thor laid out on the dining table, but shrugged, took a seat at the head of the table, and proceeded to make himself a sandwich.

Bruce and Thor sat to his right and Loki took a seat along the left side. Thor piled his plate high with a range of food before taking a bite out of everything in quick succession, whereas Loki picked up a bread roll, took a bite out of the crust and then proceeded to tear out the fluffy innards with long fingers and pop the pieces into his mouth.

Soon, Tony noticed a pattern occurring. Thor, trying and apparently failing to be surreptitious, would take a bite out of a new food, declare that it was delicious and that Loki needed to try it. Loki would accept the dish genially, take a bite, and then converse amicably with Thor, and Thor was so delighted that his brother spoke freely with him again that he did not notice the food he piled onto his brother's plate was slowly disappearing even though Loki did not take another bite.

Tony only noticed this as he caught Loki's occasional hand movements under the table and a little more food magically disappeared. Natasha was still buried in her book but her eyes were not moving and Stark knew the Black Widow was watching too.

The conversation drifted to their work in the lab and Stark expressed his dissatisfaction with the project. "In theory, everything works fine. But every power source I try doesn't seem to have enough energy output. I even hooked it up to the arc reactor and that was still a no-go."

Loki laughed as he stood and, surprisingly, placed his plate in the sink. "There is only one thing on this planet that can power your device." Tony and Bruce glanced at each other as Loki made to exit.

"What?" Stark demanded, feeling on the edge of a breakthrough. Loki paused at the doorway and his grin bled mischief.

"Me." And he disappeared from the room.

Tony scowled, annoyed at both himself and at Loki. Out of spite, he turned to Thor and ratted Loki out.

"I hope you know he didn't eat any of that."

"Stark." Natasha reprimanded, finally looking up from her book.

"Ah-ha!" He pointed a finger at her, "I knew you saw it too!"

Natasha frowned, addressing Thor instead. "Is his not eating a problem?"

Thor looked troubled, rubbing a large hand over his scratchy jaw. "Loki does not need to eat as oft as I do; his magic can sustain him when necessary. But since he returned from his fall from Asgard, I have barely seen him eat a thing, and I wonder what has happened to him in the Void to cause him to punish himself so." Even Stark was subdued for a moment, before Natasha's words darkened their thoughts even further.

"I think many things happened to Loki in that Void, under Thanos' custody, only the most trivial of which he will ever dare speak of."

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

It was a sunny Tuesday when a greatly amused Loki finally agreed to help a grumpy Tony. He followed the billionaire into the lab where Bruce, Eric, Jane and Darcy were already at work.

"All common magicks work at the same particle frequency in this realm." Loki explained as he looked over the calculations, theories and specifications. "High magicks, such as the Infinity Gauntlet, Mjolnir and Gungnir, Odin's spear, are all-powerful and will be unaffected. The Chitauri ships are powered by this common magic, and so will be vulnerable to this particle frequency attack. However, that also pertains to myself and my kinsfolk, and the warriors of Elven kind, and will render all magically incapacitated. It will be a _dernier ressort_ , a last hope."

Satisfied that their theory was fully functioning, he moved on to the design blueprints and the current prototype.

"I can power this device, but it will need a secondary power input here to contain and direct my magic." The scientists gathered around, pouring over the blueprints.

"Right, I think I can manage that." Stark began to pull apart the gunmetal-grey box that was the prototype.

Loki watched him work from afar, silently impressed. Perhaps some of these mortals were more valuable than he had first given them credit for.

After a few hours, the second prototype was corrected. Closing his eyes, Loki gathered his magic and focused, pouring his energy and intent forth into his fingertips, and in his cupped hands, a ball of light began to grow. The others watched on silently in awe and excitement as the little ball zapped and cackled and grew to the size of a fist.

Loki opened his eyes then, and with a gentle motion of his hand, the ball rolled through the air and into its niche in the machine. Stark snapped the lid shut and clapped his hands together excitedly. "Alright, moment of truth!" And with a grand flourish he flicked the switch and the machine whirred to life.

"Well, nothing's blowing up so I call that a success." Tony and Bruce hi-fived.

Loki raised an eyebrow. "Should you not test the device before declaring it successful?"

Jane and Eric began to measure electrical outputs.

"Well yeah, I've been meaning to ask SHEILD for some magical weapons the Chitauri left behind but, there's just always so much paperwork with those guys." Tony picked up one of his glass tablets to record Selvig's measurements.

Loki frowned for a moment before coming to a decision. "Test it on me." And Stark almost dropped his screen.

"What?" Tony stared wide-eyed and the others all looked up from their work. Loki shrugged as if he were merely offering to buy the next round of drinks. "As far as I am aware, I am the only magical being on this planet. It is logical that the device be tested on me."

Stark carefully placed the tablet on the table. "Loki, buddy, I know you're going through the whole 'I'm a rebel, black sheep of the family' thing right now, but I'm not too keen to find out how Thor will react if he learns I let you become a martyr on my watch, okay?"

Loki frowned, annoyed that Stark was making a fuss. The Man of Iron had the power for his weapon, what did he care if Loki was somehow injured in its testing? "I am in prefect health, Tony Stark," he snapped, "such a thing will not harm me, merely restrict my magic as is intended."

After discussing it with Bruce, they finally agreed to test the device. They relocated to a bunker of three reinforced steel walls and one wall of bulletproof glass. Loki stood before the device as the scientists hooked it up to the multitude of monitors with which output and performance was measured. Eric, Darcy and Jane filed out to watch from behind the wall of glass as Tony and Bruce gave him a final warning.

"Okay, if you start to feel any pain or anything, you gotta let us know." Loki rolled his eyes and Stark took that to mean get on with it. "Alright, here we go." They left the room to join the others and the lock clicked audibly behind them.

The machine began to buzz, increasing in frequency as the ball of light glowed brighter and brighter as the energy condensed and gathered at the exit point. Loki steeled himself and the machine fired; a white hot beam of light shooting forth and striking him in the chest before dispersing around the room. Loki felt as though his blood was being frozen in his veins and all he saw was the white light. And then all he saw was blackness.

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit." Tony muttered as he leapt up from his chair, followed closely behind by Bruce and the others, and dashed into the bunker to where Loki had collapsed. He skidded to his knees at Loki's side and Bruce dropped at his other side, smoothly sliding into doctor mode. "Darcy, run and grab my Medkit from the next room."

"On it!" Darcy rushed from the room.

Jane stood beside Eric, hand over her mouth in shock. "Is he okay? Please tell me he's okay." Bruce leant forward to check his vitals, but reeled back when the god's eyes suddenly shot open.

Tony and Bruce scooted back as Loki rolled onto all fours, curling in on himself. Bruce lowered himself until he was eye level. The god had his eyes squeezed shut as if in great pain. "Loki, its Bruce. I need you to tell me what's going on. What do you need?" Bruce spoke calmly and clearly. He heard Loki murmur but was unable to catch his words and shuffled closer until their heads bowed together. "Can you repeat that for me Loki?"

"Run." Loki hissed. His head shot up and his eyes flew open. Bruce fell backward with a gasp as Loki's once deep emerald irises were now a pale electric blue, so bright they burned.

"Get out." Loki growled, fists clenching on the ground. Bruce glanced at Tony and his identical look of horror, and he scrambled to his feet as they all bolted for the door.

"I got it!" Darcy greeted them just outside the door, waving the First Aid kit. "What's going on?" Her question fell on deaf ears as they rushed back into the windowed room just in time to see Loki explode in an electric storm of bright blue-white light.

The energy tore around the room, bolts like lightning smashing the equipment and scarring the steel walls with black. In the centre of the room, Loki stood, his hair and coat whipping about him, and bright blue eyes blazing. One of the monitors crashed into the window with such force that it broke the bulletproof barrier and the scientists were forced to dive to the side to avoid the flying screen and the shattered glass.

With a barrier between them no longer, the full force of Loki's power was released above their heads. Lightning crashed overhead and their following thunder was deafening, gale force winds tore about the room, scattering papers and snatching at their clothes.

Thinking fast, Bruce crawled out of the room and ran to the door of the bunker. He could hear Tony shouting after him but he ignored it, betting bravely on Loki's self-control once the safety of another was at stake, but knowing that if he failed, the Other Guy would protect him.

Bruce threw his shoulder against the door to open it against the wind. "Loki!" He called, throwing his arms over his head to protect his face from the wind and debris. "Loki stop! You need to calm down! You are in control!" He shuffled forward and Loki turned to him, eerie blue eyes unfocused. But Bruce held his gaze, even as the wind tore at him and lightning zoomed far too close for comfort, Bruce pushed down the Other Guy and kept their eyes locked, and slowly, the electric blue faded into the normal deep emerald green, and the biting wind stuttered and died, and the debris fell harmlessly to the floor.

Loki swayed dangerously before dropping to his knees. Bruce dashed forward and knelt before him as Tony entered the room also, hovering over his shoulder. His coat and leggings were torn and tattered, and shallow cuts scored his face and hands, though even as Bruce tended to them, they began to heal.

"Are you alright?" Bruce murmured, and despite his exhaustion, a hint of mischief twinkled in Loki's green eyes as he stated: "I think it still needs a few adjustments."


	21. The Pool

* * *

_Honest to God I will break your heart,  
Tear you to pieces and rip you apart._

_~ "Night of the Hunter", 30 Seconds to Mars_

* * *

A few more days work and they had successfully calibrated the device, which Darcy had sarcastically named LBOD, for Loki's Box of Death, and the nickname had stuck. LBOD now effectively constricted the flow of Loki's magic, but not to a level at which his magic would compress until it rebounded uncontrollably.

And still, Loki had avoided Natasha as much as courteously possible – though he had enjoyed her company more than the other mortals, he did not trust her, and he did not trust himself. Nevertheless, she was still carrying his child and so, when Bruce expressed concern for her deteriorating condition, Loki decided to seek out her company, if only for a small while.

Except she was nowhere to be found. He had searched all her usual places – her room, the rooftop, the lounge room, the firing range, even a strange room that held a body of water. He thought this is what he'd heard the others call a 'pool'. Something about this 'pool' weirded him out a little; it smelt off - sulphury like the pits of molten muck on Muspelheim, and something about the way it was still, and yet clear and not stagnant, didn't seem right to him. So, grinning mischievously, he reached out a long, pale finger to the water's surface…and froze it.

Loki headed back up to the common room, deciding to ask the other Avengers if they had seen Natasha. As he entered the common room he was greeted by four half naked males. He stopped abruptly, unsure of what this Midgardian ritual was. Tony caught sight of him, "Hey look who it is, Rock of Ages decided to come out of his cave."

Loki regained his senses as the group stopped in front of him. Their multi-coloured shorts made a strange noise when they walked. "Have you seen Lady Natasha?" He asked the Man of Iron who, for some reason, laughed.

"She went shopping with Pepper. Last time I saw her she was complaining that none of her clothes fit her and that she'd shoot the next person who said 'maternity wear'." He chuckled again, but Loki didn't understand the reference, instead he eyed the group of shirtless males curiously. "What is this ritual of indecency?" He questioned, and Rodgers snickered.

"We're going for a swim in the pool." Stark nodded, "Hey, you wanna come?" He heard a groan and Clint mutter from the back, "Don't invite him." But Loki just smirked, "Ah, no, thank you."

"Suit yourself." Stark shrugged and they made their way past him and down to the next level. As they left Loki grinned and, making himself invisible, he followed them. This should be good entertainment until Natasha got back.

"Last one in has to do all my paperwork!" Stark shouted, pushing Steve aside and bolted towards the pool, only to skid to a stop at the water's edge. "What the fuck?" They gathered around to stare at the glassy pool.

Steve reached down to knock on its surface, "It's solid ice." He told them in bewilderment. Tony frowned, "JARVIS, did you do this?" He yelled, and the mechanical voice of JARVIS echoed through the room, "No, sir, I didn't not."

Tony scratched his head, puzzled. "Well then how the fuck-"

That's when they heard it.

A snicker.

They all spun in circles, searching for the source. "Who's there?" Stark called out, suddenly worried that his beloved tower had been invaded by ghosts. Hey, stranger things had happened.

Loki let his illusion drop, chuckling quietly beneath his hand, and suddenly they all saw the God of Mischief pop into view. They stared at him for a moment, a little confused, then, without warning, a cold, hard block of ice smacked Loki in the shoulder, and he stopped laughing. They all turned to stare at Steve, who was crouched over the pool where a chunk of ice had been ripped out of the corner. "Nice arm, Cap." Tony grinned. Suddenly, a snowball hit both Stark and Rodgers directly in the face.

"Oh, it's on!" Stark declared, gathering up a handful of snow and ice in his palm. But before he could throw it, a dark cloud gathered on the ceiling and they were all buried under a meter of snow that was dumped on their heads.

Loki laughed almost silently, until a snowball thumped him in the chest. "I think the Other Guy likes snowball fights." Banner said cheekily, and Stark threw snow at the back of his head.

The cloud snowed lightly throughout the room and covered the ground as the snowball fight ensued. Loki had even managed to get Clint involved, though it had taken a little mischief and magic.

"This is ridiculous, we came to go swimming!" Clint had complained, standing by the wall with his arms crossed grumpily as the others hurled snow at each other.

"Lighten up, Bird Brain!" Tony's head popped up from behind the wall of snow he had built for protection, only to cop a snowball to the side of the head, courtesy of Bruce. Loki had snuck around to the corner near Clint and knelt to the ground, touching his fingers to the frozen tiles and letting his magic flow through the floor.

There were cracking noises as a spindle of ice headed straight for Clint and wrapped around his ankles as Clint looked on in horror. "Oi, that's not funny, you crazy-ass god!" Clint started shouting. With a twitch of Loki's fingers, a tiny branch of ice broke from the rest and began to make its way up Clint's leg. "Let me go, you homicidal – HOLY FUCK MY BALLS! GET IT OFF, GET IT OFF, THAT'S FUCKING COLD!" Clint screamed as the other Avengers fell to the ground laughing.

"Oh god, my stomach." Tony managed to gasp through his mirth as he clutched his middle. Clint struggled to jump away, screaming profanities, but his feet were frozen to the floor. Abruptly, the ice vanished and Clint crashed face-first into a pile of snow. Steve clung on to Bruce in attempt to hold himself up, though it didn't help much as they were both laughing so hard.

Clint's head popped out of the icy whiteness and he spat out a mouthful of snow. "That's IT!" He grabbed a handful of snow and hurled it at Loki. The ball passed straight through his chest. As the image shimmered and died, the real Loki appeared behind Clint, grinning wickedly to himself as he shoved a fistful of snow down the back off Clint's shirt. Clint shrieked and flailed about in a very unmanly way, and Loki bolted.

Muttering curses, Clint gathered as many snowballs as he could in his arms and gave chase, pelting snowballs at Loki's back. Steve got up and joined the chase, throwing snow at Clint. Tony and Bruce joined forces and built a snow fort in the centre of the frozen pool from which they hurled snowballs at everyone.

Soon the teams were defined as Loki, Steve and Clint were all being pelted by snowballs but could not manage to hit Stark or Banner in their icy fortress. "Okay, here's the plan." Steve immediately fell into the role of General as they hid behind a wall of snow and icy missiles crashed over their heads.

"Clint, you go that way and draw their fire." Steve drew his plan of attack in the snow with his finger. "Loki, we'll go this way and you cover me and I'll steal their ammo." He instructed as he drew the giant pile of snowballs that were stacked at the rear of the fort.

"I have a better idea." Loki grinned, "Cover me." And he darted out from behind their protective wall before they could object. Steve and Clint hurled snowballs at the ice fort as Loki bolted towards it. He dove to the ground and let himself slide feet first to the edge of the frozen pool to avoid the snowball thrown at his head. He quickly stretched out his arm and touched his fingertips to the icy surface. Instantly, the water became unfrozen and Bruce, Tony and their ice fortress fell into it with a mighty splash.

"You ass!" Tony yelled as he dragged his dripping body to the edge of the pool, followed by a sputtering Bruce. Loki danced away as a vengeful Stark started after him and Clint and Steve doubled over with laughter. "That was, so much better than my plan." Steve gasped.

"You're going down, Reindeer Games!" Tony declared and gathered a giant snowball in his hands. He hurled it with two hands at Loki who ducked, the giant ball whizzed over his head as the door behind him opened…

…and hit both Natasha and Pepper in the face.

"Uh oh." Tony muttered as everyone stared in shock.

"What…what…what the hell?" Pepper stuttered. Natasha brushed the snow from her hair and glared at them all, eyes finally landing on Loki. "We leave you guys alone for a few hours, and this is what you get up to?" She rolled her eyes and Loki heard her mutter "Men" as she wandered from the room.

Pepper crossed her arms and glared at Tony, "So um, any chance you wanna make me a hot cocoa, Pep?" He shot her a winning smile.

She threw a snowball at him.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Later that night, Loki knocked on Natasha's door as she stepped from the shower and donned her newly purchased maternity nightie, the silk feeling amazing on her skin.

"I was told that the people of Russia are fond of snow, is this not so?" He leant against the doorframe and smirked lopsidedly. She glanced up at him, smiled lightly and shook her head. "No, that's true, I guess I just wasn't expecting you to play so nice with everyone. Or everyone to play nice with you, for that matter." She frowned and sat on the bed, and Loki came to stand before her.

"How do you fare?" She hid her tiny smile at his old manner of speaking; she had noticed it had become more pronounced after Thor showed up.

"I'm fine. Bruce says it's not long to go now." She laid a hand over her swollen belly. One of Loki's eyebrows twitched upwards. "What have I told you about lying to the God of Lies?" He mocked. "You are not fine, the child's magic is draining on your life-force as we speak. You are weary, your strength wanes and your pain increases. I daresay you will be pleased to be rid of the child."

She frowned, shaking her head. "Loki, I've told you before, this is my child as much as it is yours, and I will not abandon it the way I was, the way you were."

Loki's mouth twisted darkly, "And what then? We move into a castle and live happily ever after? That is not a conceivable end for this story, not with me in it." He began to pace between the two bedposts at the end of her bed, and Natasha wasn't sure what to say, because up until a week ago, she didn't think her story had a happy ending either.

"I can't tell the future, Loki," she chose her words carefully, "but I do believe in you, and I will keep believing in you, because I had someone believe in me. And don't think you're such a lost cause, because I know of at least three men, who a month ago wouldn't have cared if you lived or died, who stood up to Director Fury in your defence and vouched for you. And your brother, who loves you, who has always loved you. They all believe in you too, if you'd only let them."

He wanted to believe her words. But he didn't. He couldn't. They were all lies. It was her nature. It was his nature. Wasn't it? And even if it was true, even if the Widow and her merry band of Avengers believed in little old Loki, then they were all fools, and he would let them down. For how could he possibly be redeemed? He was a monster, too hideous to even show his true face. If they knew what he truly was, they wouldn't believe in him then, even his dear brother would shun him, and Natasha, would she take him to bed then and whisper to him sweetly fallacious words of hope and trust? No, she would run screaming from the room!

Loki had not even realised his hands had balled into fists until Natasha clasped one in her soft hands and lead him towards her bed. He wrenched his hand from her grip, his expression thunderous as his hate consumed him. And then suddenly, all his rage left him, and he deflated. And he suddenly felt so very tired of it all.

"Stay." He hears her ask, and those big blue eyes plead with him.

"Natasha." He breathes, and he looks utterly torn. He turns away from her to face the window, hands clasped behind his back, brows furrowed in thought. "Natasha, whatever you think this is, I must warn you, it is not. You say it is not a game to you, not a mission, but it cannot be anything more. _I_ cannot be anything more. Hope can be a devastating thing, and you have hope where there is none. Give up, Natasha. Give up, for your own sake. I am what I am, I cannot be redeemed, I cannot be saved. Give up on me. Please."

And he left before she could ask him to stay again, before those sapphire eyes could tame him and make him believe that he could be more than he is. Before she asked again for him to stay, and he said yes and corrupted her forever.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Loki laid down on his small cell's bed to rest, pretending the fact that the guards watched his every move did not bother him. To them he would appear to be sleeping, even as his astral body floated away through the cosmos.

"That was a foolish move Thanos," Loki taunted as the Titan appeared before him, desolate grey rocks and black starless sky slowly forming, "you should not have involved the girl." His purple face twisted into a snarl. "Why was she hidden from me then? She is a mere mortal, she has no powers."

Loki shrugged, a half-smirk playing on his face as he moved about the barren plane. "That is none of your concern. What's important is that we are approaching the final stage of the plan. Gather all your army, for soon we go to war on Midgard. When we meet on the battlefield I shall complete the Gauntlet, and all the world shall fall to their knees before us."

Thanos' eerie eyes pierced him, before his purple mouth split into a wide grin. "Very good, little Frost Giant. Lucky for you, you have become a most useful little traitor." Thanos threw back his head and laughed manically, and Loki bowed his head to hide his own smirk.


	22. The Coming

* * *

_This is a call to arms, gather soldiers_   
_Time to go to war_   
_This is a battle song, brothers and sisters_   
_Time to go to war_

_~ "Vox Populi", 30 Seconds to Mars_

* * *

Tony Stark has few regrets in his life; he is not a man who wallows in sorrow and misfortune, but sees life as a challenge which he will overcome, because he is Tony Stark and he is a genius.

However, right at this moment, he was regretting ever teaching Loki how to play poker.

Normally it was Natasha who cleaned him out, I mean look at that face. All you had to do was watch her in an interrogation to know she had a Poker Face of Steel. But no matter the hand, Natasha's expression was blank, whereas Loki's changed so fast and so unexpectedly that Tony wasn't sure what was real and what wasn't.

Though really, Tony should have known better. I mean the guy's name is God of Lies for crying out loud.

Stark poured himself another scotch. He'd just blame his losing streak on the alcohol and demand a rematch later, and maybe then when he'd sobered up he could win back some of his losses. Probably not.

At least Loki looked happy. He was even smiling. And not in a creepy, evil, I'm-going-to-take-over-the-world-and-make-you-all-my-bitches way, but in a honest, unguarded way, and deep down Tony was glad to see that the poster child for the Hard-Knock Life was finally starting to accept them.

"Royal Flush, I believe that is called."

On second thought, the stupid god can go back to Middle-Earth or wherever he came from.

"Bullshit! No way! You're using magic aren't you?"

Loki spread his arms wide in a display of harmlessness, but his mischievous smirk betrayed him. "Why, Friend Stark, I am appalled that you would think so lowly of me. Amongst Asgardians, cheating is a most dishonourable offence." Tony threw down his own sad hand and Clint scraped them together to shuffle.

"Don't make me get LBOD out." Tony threatened dramatically, waving his scotch in the air and giggling as it sloshed over the side of the glass and dribbled down the side of Bruce's head.

"Ahh, Tony!" Bruce looked like he was about to go on another rant about Tony's drinking when JARVIS cut in. _"Sir, you have an incoming call from Director Fury."_

"We're not home." Tony answered quickly, surreptitiously peeking at the cards Clint had just dealt him.

" _He insists it is urgent, Sir."_

"We've gone camping. In Canada. No, Alaska. No reception. Don't call me, I'll call you." Stark rambled until Natasha rolled her eyes and overrode him, "Put him through please JARVIS."

" _Very good, Miss Romanov."_

Tony waved angrily at the ceiling. "What? I'm the boss, how are you listening to her and not me? That's it, I'm downgrading the I part of your AI."

"I missed you too, Stark." Fury's face popped up on a large clear screen. "But right now we have much bigger problems." His expression was stern, but then again, he had even looked like that the one time they'd ended up in that strip club in Vegas…

"Seems like we got ourselves a few extra-terrestrial delegates, and I'm sending in the welcome wagon. Pack some sunscreen people, I want you in New Mexico ASAP. I'll have a team meet you out there. Dismissed."

"Man," Stark muttered in the silence that followed, "just what we needed; more crazy aliens."

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Tony made his way upstairs to find his CEO. In typical Pepper fashion, she was on the phone taking care of his business. Sometimes, he honestly didn't know how he'd survived before her.

"No, I need those shipments by Monday. Yes." She paced across their bedroom in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. "Yes, right away. And the Henderson portfolio needs to be completed before this weekend." Tony coughed loudly, motioning to her when she looked up at him. "Um, I'll have to call you back later Bridget." She ended the call and removed the headset from her ear. "What is it, Tony?"

"Apparently our new super soldiers have arrived. We leave for New Mexico in an hour." He took a seat on their luxurious king size bed. "Alright. I'll start packing." She moved away to rummage through her closet. "I'm guessing SHIELD will already have things set up, but I'll see what I can…"

"Pepper," He interrupted, "There's something else I need you to do for me." He patted the spot beside him, and hesitantly she sat, suddenly dreading what he was about to say. He turned to her, taking her hands in his and holding her gaze. "I need you to take Selvig and the girls to our safehouse in Paris. Take Jane and Darcy and take the jet as soon as you can. I'll have security meet you there and I'll call you when it's all over." Pepper sighed and looked away, her eyes looking a little misty. He hoped she didn't cry. He always hated it when he made her cry. "You're leaving me behind to save the world again."

"Hey, someone's gotta do it." He tried to joke weakly.

She glared at him, jaw set. "Tony Howard Stark, you had better come back to me in one piece or so help me, I will burn your stupid tower to the ground and drown you in your own money." Despite her stern expression and her scary threats, Tony smiled. He brought the back of her hand to his lips, and then pulled her in for a kiss. "It will be okay." He said when they broke apart. "We have the Avengers. We have an army. Everything will be okay, Pep, I promise. I just need you to stay safe. If anything ever happened to you…" He kissed her again, not knowing how to end that sentence.

"Okay. Alright, fine." She agreed finally, "I'll prepare the jet, and I'll have a team make sure the house is ready. And I'll tell Jane-"

"Thor is telling Jane right now. We leave in an hour. Just, just stay?" He looked up at her, big brown eyes pleading and vulnerable. They laid back on the bed, revelling in each other's warmth. He held her close, limbs entangled, and memorized the feel of her, not knowing the next time he would hold her like this.

One floor below, Thor and Jane were doing the exact same thing, Thor wiping away Jane's silent tears when they fell.

A darkness settled over the tower, and it wasn't just from the thunderclouds that had gathered overhead and blocked out the sun.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

They touched down in the hot desert sands, an enormous white tent already marring the golden-yellow expanse. For a government organisation, SHIELD was pretty efficient. Once inside, the heat was slightly less brutal, but still Loki felt it more keenly than the others.

While militant looking on the outside, the command post was chaos on the inside. It seemed SHIELD had managed to lead the newcomers inside, but with most not having the power of the All-Tongue communication had quickly broken down. A crowd of tall and fierce-looking warriors milled just inside the entry, and up ahead SHIELD agents had gathered, scurrying back and forth or standing and watching the commotion.

As the group of superheroes pushed their way to the front, Natasha took stock of their new allies. Most were men but Natasha was both surprised and pleased to see there were many women amongst them. All towered over her, around the same height as Loki and Thor, and all were beautiful. They were adorned in shining silver armour, breastplates carved with strange symbols and swirling patterns, and they carried an array of shields, swords, spears and bows amongst them. But the very first thing Natasha noticed was that they were almost all blonde. Strawberry blondes and golden chestnuts maybe, but definitely none with the likes of Loki's inky black locks.

Natasha also noticed Amora was among them, though she didn't wear the heavy armour the others did. She caught Natasha staring and a smirk flickered across her face, setting Natasha on edge. But they were all on the same side here, and it would do them no good to fight amongst themselves.

"Thor!" A deep voice roared as they made their way to the front of the pack. A short, stout man with a long reddish beard clasped forearms with Thor in greeting and Natasha recognised him from Coulson's last New Mexico mission as Volstagg. Behind him were two other men, one a fierce looking brunette and the other a blonde, and a woman with long black hair as dark as midnight. These Natasha also recognised from the first New Mexico encounter as Hogun, Frandal and Lady Sif. Each greeted Thor warmly, like a long-lost brother, however barely inclined their heads to their other prince and spoke not a word to him.

"These strange mortals wish to detain me in something called a 'cafeteria'." Volstagg continued, shaking his head. "Ah, Volstagg a cafeteria is a great hall for feasting!" Thor beamed, clapping his friend on the shoulder. The shorter man's eyes went wide. "Well then," he turned to the commanding SHIELD operative who was looking increasingly frustrated, "what are we waiting for? You shall lead and I shall follow!" Volstagg guffawed and Thor threw his arm around his shoulders, and his other around Frandal's, and began the introductions.

"My friends, this is Tony Stark, a fierce warrior known as the Man of Iron and a builder of a great many things." The three bowed their heads in greeting.

"Ah, you forgot, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, and incredibly good looking." Tony added, tousling his hair mockingly. Bruce nudged him with his shoulder but Frandal laughed heartily. "I like this one."

"This is Doctor Bruce Banner, a great thinker and healer, and also, a great weapon." Bruce bowed to them and they returned the gesture; Sif even smiled.

"What kind of weapon do you wield? He does not look so mighty." Volstagg looked Bruce up and down. Thor answered for him, "Trust me friend Volstagg, when Son of Banner comes to battle, our enemies will quake with fear!" Bruce rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "I wouldn't say that." He muttered.

"This here is Steve Rodgers, Captain of America, a wide land with a great many people. He is a most courageous and mighty soldier." To Steve they bowed a little lower than the others, misunderstanding his title. And Natasha wasn't sure, but she thought even Hogun looked impressed.

"And this is Clint Barton, a great archer with aim to rival that of the Elves."

"Hey." Clint gave a tiny wave. The Asgardians looked thoroughly confused by the gesture, but bowed their heads anyway.

"And this, my good friends, is the beautiful Lady Natasha, fierce of heart and deadly of speed, she is a master of stealth and a sharp tongue, and on the battlefield may rival even you Sif!" Thor laughed but Sif's expression was sour. "You declare this mortal could best me? She cannot fight, what use is she in this war?" Sif was hot-headed and proud, but Natasha regarded her coolly, her mask remaining ever impenetrable.

"Indeed, she shall not aid us on the battlefront this time, but the Lady is well versed in medicine and healing, and will aid us when our need becomes most dire." Frandal leapt forward then and took her hand in his. "My Lady, any mortal wound of mine may claim my life, as long as I am tended in the last by your beautiful hands." And he bowed at the waist to kiss her hand. Her only change in expression was to raise an eyebrow, however she noticed Loki moved to stand close beside her, and Frandal seemed to back away immediately.

The tension was suddenly high as the warriors could no longer ignore Loki's presence. Sif especially seemed to glare daggers and Loki held their gaze as the silence grew awkward. "Does the All-Father know your brother rides freely with you?" Sif directed her question at Thor, who frowned. "I have not yet spoken with Father, and much has happened in such short time."

Sif's eyes did not leave Loki's as she scowled. "He should be back in his cell for all that he has done." Loki smirked and it only angered Sif further. "Set aside your anger Sif, Loki has been punished enough and I will no longer stand aside and let false accusations and misfortune befall my brother." Sif glared a moment longer but finally relented.

"Come friends, let us break bread together and bury past grievances for a while." Thor attempted to dissipate the tension. "That is the finest idea you've had Thor!" Volstagg roared jovially, and together they lead the way to the cafeteria.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

If Stark thought Thor would have eaten him out of house and home, then he was very glad SHIELD was providing for Volstagg and the other Asgardians because, for a guy who was the shortest of them all, he put away at least twice as much as Thor did.

The Warriors Three brought with them news of Asgard, and also news of Thanos' approach. "His fleet approaches quickly, and they lay waste to everything in their path. Three nights ago they destroyed the northern half of the planet Klaatu and left its people desolate." Frandal informed them.

"The All-Father departed for Alfheim the day before last, to gather the Ljósálfar and the second fleet of our warriors." Volstagg spoke as he ate and Natasha cringed as pieces of half-chewed food fell from his mouth and tangled in his beard. She glanced across the table and noticed Loki with the same expression. Loki noticed her gaze and pulled a more obviously disgusted face, and Natasha couldn't hide her smile.

"Geez, will you two lovebirds cut it out? You're making me nauseous." Stark called loudly and Natasha shot him a death glare as everyone looked to them.

Suddenly, thunder clapped loudly and out of the plastic window they saw dark, rolling clouds merge together faster than any natural phenomenon. "Is that you?" Clint pointed at Thor, who shook his head. The clouds grew larger and darker amidst the blue sky and lightning scarred the desert ground. The clouds opened in the middle and large beam of light smashed to the ground, its thunder echoing all the way to their camp. A great plume of dust hovered in the air as the dark clouds dissipated as fast as they had come.

"Odin." Loki muttered, and his face was as dark as the clouds had been.


	23. The Father

* * *

_Come to bed, don't make me sleep alone._   
_Couldn't hide the emptiness, you let it show._   
_Never wanted it to be so cold._   
_Just didn't drink enough to say you love me._

_~ "Lithium", Evanescence_

* * *

Odin entered the facility with all the splendour and majesty one would expect from a king of gods. Fury arrived not long after and Odin handled negotiations with SHIELD diplomatically, much to Natasha's surprise, though she supposed she shouldn't be; Odin may be a lousy father but he was still a king. Agents Coulson and Hill had accompanied Fury and the three of them spoke with Thor and his father and another tall man with long silver hair, who was the Commander of the Elves, for a long while.

The company of Elves were over a hundred strong, and many rode over horses of pure white. They were as tall as the Asgardians, and in some cases even taller, but where the Asgardian warriors were powerful and muscular, the Elves were slim and lithe and silent-footed. Their armour was lighter and thinner than the Asgardian's, though no less intricate. Their ears were sharply pointed and both the men and women had long silvery hair that was braided or woven handsomely. The Elves and the Asgardians had invaded the cafeteria, and though there was barely enough room to move, the two races mingled and conversed together happily.

When the negotiations were complete and the warriors had all been assigned temporary quarters, Odin asked to speak with Thor and Loki alone.

"Loki Odinson," Odin began, but before he could get another word out, Loki interrupted. "Have you not already publicly disowned me? Why not use my true name now?"

"Loki, please." Thor begged his brother, and Odin closed his eyes wearily as if it pained him to speak. "Loki Laufeyson," Odin growled, "Thor has spoken to me of the happenings both after your fall from Asgard and after your assault on Midgard, and of your dealings with Thanos, and despite such blatant treason, your brother has convinced me that you have served your punishment, and so I shall not add to your suffering on this occasion. But Loki, I council you that you should have sought my advice on such grave matters. Steal from me again and I shall not be so lenient."

Loki's blood boiled, but on the outside he wore a meek and gracious face. "Then, I thank you All-Father, for your clemency and wisdom." And he took his leave before his Silver-Tongue could cut sharp words that would do him no good.

Thor followed him out. "See brother? Did I not say that father would not be so harsh as you imagine once he knew-" But Loki rounded on his brother, his face more wrathful than Sutur himself, and the words died in Thor's throat. "What right have you to meddle in my affairs? To reveal the things I have told to you in trust and good faith?"

"I have a right as your brother!" Thor defended, torn between pleading and anger. "You stole from Odin's Vault! Had I not made it known that your actions were borne of dire need for all the Nine Realms, you would have been punished accordingly!"

"Then it was my punishment to bear! What thoughts have you for the Fallen Prince?"

"Be it by blood or no, you are my brother Loki. Have you not been punished enough? Why do you submit yourself to such burdens and bear them alone? Why do you blame yourself when the fault lies with me? _I_ did not look for you, _I_ left you to the devices of Thanos, _I_ let him corrupt you, and _I_ let you be punished for it; I failed you Loki." Thor's voice lost all its anger then, and Loki felt the burden of his life grow ever heavier on his brother's shoulders.

"Enough, Thor. You are the Crown Prince of Asgard, you should care not for foul beasts of the night, for the monster that haunts children's nightmares!" Thor shook his head, trying to dispel his brother's self-loathing. "Loki, you are not-"

"I am what I am! I cannot change, I cannot be redeemed. I am a monster, Thor. Father has finally disowned me. He hates me, as he should, as you should too! Odin should have left me to die where he found me! He should have slew me upon the icy rocks of Jotunheim! Look at me, Thor!" And blue crept up Loki's hands and neck and red tinged his eyes. "LOOK AT ME!" Loki roared, the red of his eyes swimming in unshed tears, dark markings scarring the smooth expanse of his blue skin.

And for the first time, Thor saw his brother's true form, and his eyes widened but his heart tore in two. "I see you, Loki." Loki took a hesitant step back as Thor moved forwards, but Thor clasped his brother on the shoulders and, putting aside all pride, and titles, and manliness, he pulled Loki into a tight bear hug.

Loki was frozen, rigid in his arms, before he shoved Thor in the chest, pushing him away. His gaze remained firmly on the floor as the blue receded from his skin.

Thor's fists clenched at his sides. "Dammit, Loki! Why? Why won't you let me in?" Thor searched his brother's face, but Loki turned away, hiding from his brother, hiding from the world, hiding from himself, just as he had always done.

Loki had chosen to lock himself away, to burn quietly inside himself, falling into his insanity, his rage. Thor wanted to cry, to shake some sense into his brother, to hold him until he realised how much he loved him.

Loki raised his head and his eyes met Thor's, and for a moment, a split second, his expression wasn't the usual hard, disinterested mask he wore, but soft, vulnerable – his little brother.

"When this is all over, you should stay – here, on Midgard. The mortal, Jane, she makes you happy Thor. That is enough."

Thor frowned, puzzled by his brother's sudden change in conversation, but before he could ask, Loki was gone.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

The last faction of Asgardian warriors arrived the next day, and accompanying them was the queen, Thor and Loki's mother, Frigga. She was beautiful, and moved with the grace of royalty. Natasha spied her as she greeted her sons; she had given the royal family a wide berth since their arrival, unsure of the current relationship dynamic.

She watched from the shadows across the cafeteria as Frigga embraced Thor, kissing him on both cheeks. She turned to her other son, and Loki bowed respectfully, but Frigga threw her arms around his middle; not a queen in that moment, but a loving mother. Loki's eyes widened and he awkwardly hugged her back, looking rather bewildered, and Natasha suddenly felt a stabbing ache that she wished she had known her own mother. She thought then of the child within her, and she knew without a doubt that despite her lifestyle, despite her past, despite her nature, she would do the best she could to protect the child, even if she had to do it alone.

Frigga spoke again, and her sons obediently followed her out of the cafeteria. Curious, Natasha followed at a distance. She followed them out into the heat of the sun, frowning when she noticed the rest of the Avengers and Fury had already gathered. Loki pushed past them and Natasha froze in shock as a great, hulking creature rose from the ground. She joined Thor and the others, not caring if she was seen anymore, too focused on the sight before her.

In front of Loki stood a shaggy, brown wolf the size of a horse.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

It had been at least a century since Loki had last laid eyes on his son. He was almost nervous.

' _Father.'_ The deep voice rumbled in his head.

' _Fenris. It has been a long time, my son.'_

' _I have missed your visits father, did you forget your disfigured son?'_ Loki almost cringed at the venom in his son's voice. Fenris sounded just like him. _'Never, Fenris.'_

"Are they just gonna have a staring competition forever, or what?" Tony complained.

"They have not spoken in a long time." Thor informed them, concern touching his face.

"Wait, what?" Tony looked startled, "They're talking? Like telepathically? Now that, is a cool superpower."

"I wonder what they're saying." Bruce looked on the silent exchange thoughtfully.

' _The little bearded one looks tasty._ ' The corners of his mouth pulled back into a wolfish grin. Loki laughed, "You cannot eat them Fenris, your Uncle would be most distraught." He said aloud, turning to enjoy the looks of shock and terror that crossed the Avenger's faces.

"Now I _really_ want to know what they're saying." Stark muttered.

Fenris moved forward then, bowing his head and pushing it against Loki's chest. _'It's good to be free.'_ Loki's hands reached up to fist in the wolf's thick fur as Fenris nuzzled him. _'I know. I'm sorry I took so long.'_

After a moment, Fenris lifted his head to sniff the air. His golden-eyed gaze landed on Natasha. _'So, do I get a brother or a sister?'_ Loki looked over to Natasha, a smile lifting one corner of his lips. Her blue eyes darted back and forth between them, unsure. _'You'll find out soon enough.'_

"Natasha, this is Fenris, my son." The huge wolf moved to stand before her and Natasha instantly tensed, instincts jumping into fight or flight mode. _'Hello, Natasha.'_ A voice echoed in her head and Natasha instinctively jerked back at the sudden invasion.

"Svyatoye der'mo." She breathed, "You can read my mind? All our minds?" She asked, feeling rather ridiculous talking to a wolf.

' _No, only those surface thoughts directed at me. But yes, I can communicate this way with anyone.'_ She gave a sharp nod, filing away the piece of potentially useful information out of habit. _'I trust you are taking good care of my half-sister.'_ He asked casually, and Natasha's eyebrows shot into her hairline. Fenris almost seemed like he was smirking at her surprise, and Natasha thought he was far too much like his father.

' _How did you know?'_ She thought at him.

' _I can smell the blood of my own, and I can feel a familiar magic within you.'_ Natasha was silent for a moment before she picked up on something else. _'And what makes you think it's a girl?'_ The wolf tilted his head, yellow eyes boring holes in her soul. _'Just a guess. A brother would also be most pleasing.'_

' _Well, I guess we'll find out soon enough. If we all survive the war, that is.'_ She thought sardonically.

' _Oh, I'm sure we will. Those like us who have faced death oft and fear it no longer tend to evade death despite all valour.'_ The corner of Natasha's mouth curled upward. She decided she rather liked Loki's wolf-child.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

The mixed race army steadily prepared; they sharpened swords, cleaned their guns, feathered their arrows, and they waited. SHIELD agents from all over the globe had been called in, and even the US army's crème de la crème were on loan to Fury. The DELTA force and SEAL team six arrived in a blaze of tanks, helicopters and army jeeps all armed to the teeth. It wasn't the first time Natasha had worked with the army's Black Ops teams, but that didn't mean she liked it. They were loud and raucous and typical boys, but when the shit hit the fan, you'd be glad to have them as your backup.

In her current state though, she avoided them as best she could. She had a reputation to uphold after all. In fact, she was avoiding almost everybody, with the exception of her Avengers, who she couldn't get rid of if she tried. But her pain was almost constant now, and though she hid it as best she could, it was beginning to wear her down. Bruce and Tony were once again considering a caesarean, but she was determined and stubborn as always; and ever since the Red Room she had shied away from all medical procedures.

She stood before the mirror late one evening after her shower, and a pale face stared back. Her skin was sallow and dark shadows haunted her eyes. She had lost a little of her muscle mass which only made her giant, round belly seem more out of proportion. She looked so tired.

Green eyes met hers over her shoulder. Loki appeared behind her suddenly, and she watched him in the mirror as he came closer, until he stood right behind her. His hands brushed over her shoulders, his fingers danced, spider-like, across her skin. Her eyes were kept locked on his reflection's as his hands smoothed over the muscles of her back, inching the towel wrapped around her down with soft touches that made her skin tingle. It fell to her waist, leaving the swell of her belly and breasts exposed. Loki had been closed off to her since Russia, so she was curious to once again get a flicker of insight into his thoughts.

Her eyelids fluttered as his icy touch ghosted down the sides of her breasts and then traced patterns on the curve of her stomach. To her surprise, he did not venture any lower. She felt the cool leather of his clothes press against her back.

"Natasha." Her soft name on his tongue broke the silence and goosebumps erupted on her skin. Never before had he come to her and initiated such intimate contact; never before had he touched her with such vulnerability, and openness, and innocence. She turned slightly then, to look up at him over her shoulder, and she couldn't help but fall into his eyes. And in that moment she saw his mask ripped away, his walls crumbled down, and her breath was stolen as she was hypnotised by the intense green, the rawness. She read the fear in them, but she also saw the faintest glimmer of hope, and she couldn't have rejected him in that moment even if she wanted to, even if she was ordered to.

She leant up on her toes (much harder to do when you're pregnant by the way) and kissed him. And it was so soft, and gentle, and sweet that it stole her breath away, and a spark kindled in her chest and spread like wildfire through her and she knew that she hadn't felt this way since Alexi. She was compromised, no doubt about it.

She broke away and looked at him squarely, stern; she would not take no for an answer this time. "Stay with me tonight." Loki's brows furrowed and his mouth twisted as if in great pain. He shook his head. "Natasha, I can't-" But she cut him off with another kiss.

"Loki, Loki." She breathed between the meeting of their lips. "Stay. Stay with me Loki. Stay, stay." The towel slipped and pooled at her ankles and Loki lifted her as if she were a feather, he swept her off her feet and laid her gently, delicately, on the bed. He crawled over her and her fingers twirled in the silky trendils of his hair as she pulled him in for another kiss. She couldn't tell him she loved him. Her pride and her past and her pain would not allow it. But she hoped that he could feel it in their kiss, the way she could feel his desperation and his uncertainty.

He lay down beside her, and when she tugged on his shirt it disappeared beneath her fingers. They touched, and kissed, and her hands roamed his body in a way he had rarely allowed before, but they did nothing more. She traced the lines on his palm, then took his hand and pressed it against her chest, nestling it between the valley of her breasts. "Listen. Can you hear that? Can you feel it?"

"Your heart." He answered, and she took his other hand and placed it on his own chest. His mouth twisted wryly like he was indulging a child in a fantastical story. "My heart."

Looking up, she watched his expression closely. "They are the same." She whispered. He stared down at their entwined fingers for a moment, almost as if he believed her, but then he frowned, face crumbling as his thoughts turned dark.

"No, Natasha. They aren't."

She took his face in her hands, willing him to believe her words. "You have a good heart, Loki. I've seen it." She quirked an eyebrow then, trying to alleviate his dark mood. "Don't tell a pregnant woman she's wrong." She warned, and the tiny smile that flickered across his face made her heart do funny backflips.

They kissed languidly and touched delicately, but his pants remained on all night, and eventually she fell into a dreamless slumber wrapped in his comforting embrace, his cool, soft skin cloaking her like a safety blanket.

She awoke in the darkness to the sounds of loud moaning and muttering. She bolted upright, thinking for a second she was back in the Red Room, or in some dank lair, some place of torture. But she soon realised the whimpering was coming from the pale body next to her and she leant closer, sliding her palm comfortingly over his shoulder, to hear what he was muttering. "Enough! No…no more. Brother, please make it s-s… Beg Father, I… The snake. Kill the snake... Kill me."

"Shhh Loki. It's okay, it's just a dream." She whispered in his ear, holding him close.

"Thor. Thor will come… he's my brother, he will come for me… Thor won't let them…"

"Oh Loki." Her eyes suddenly burned with unshed tears. "I'm right here Loki, it's Natasha, I'm right here." Her soft words of reassurance seemed to rouse him and his eyes darted wildly around the room before focusing on her. "Natasha." He croaked, wide green eyes boring into hers.

Softly, she stroked his hair and pulled him close, tucking his head beneath her chin, and his warm breath came harshly against the crook of her neck as she continued to croon to him softly. She hadn't even realised she was singing an old lullaby in Russian until she was halfway through the song, but she didn't stop until his limbs ceased their shaking and his breath on her chest evened out and his eyes were no longer squeezed shut but smoothed and relaxed into sleep.

In the silvery moonlight she looked down upon the sleeping form curled into her side – the long, dark lashes against smooth, pale cheeks, his face peaceful and innocent – and a tight, burning feeling that she had come to recognise as love crept its way up and into her chest, tightening her throat.

It was quickly followed and swallowed up by a burning rage.

Someone, or many someones, had ripped that innocence from him, made him scream out in the night, reduced his self-worth to less than nothing and twisted him with hate and pain, and she wanted to hurt them. She wanted to hurt them like they hurt him, wanted to make them bleed, wanted to inflict pain so unbearable that they would beg for her to end their lives, and then she would grant their wish. Because it wasn't _fair_. The people that had ruined him, the people that had ruined her, she wanted to make them pay, and she wanted that to erase her pain, his pain. She wished that was the answer, that it would take away the rage and injustice, but she knew it wouldn't. The only way they would find solace, the only way they would find redemption would be in their actions and their choices, and in each other.

"Loki Odinson," she whispered into the soft, silky hair of the sleeping demi-god, "I won't give up on you, so don't you dare give up on yourself."


	24. The Final Day

* * *

_If I smile and don’t believe,_   
_Soon I know I’ll wake from this dream,_   
_Don’t try to fix me, I’m not broken,_   
_Hello, I’m the lie living for you so you can hide_

_~ “Hello”, Evanescence  
_

* * *

The instant she awoke, something felt off.

The dull, constant pain had flared to life, dancing up and down her spine and flaming across her abdomen and down her pelvis. It made her nauseous and she carefully rolled onto her back to try and lessen the urge to puke. Her movement must have woken Loki because he stirred and rolled over to greet her, a sleepy half-smile on his face. She must have looked pained as the smile slid from his face and all traces of sleep vanished.

“Natasha? What is it?” His husky voice was low and hurried. Fisting the sheets tightly, she tried to push herself up the bed into a sitting position, hoping the change may alleviate some of the pain. “I think your kid is trying to kill me.” She ground out, trying to laugh it off but all that came out was a strangled cry.

Loki sat up and knelt before her, pale face drawn tight in concern. “You are in pain?” She couldn’t hide it anymore or push it aside, her face contorted in agony and her hands rubbed at her belly, trying to get any scrap of relief. “Here, allow me.” He fluttered his hands, indicating she move hers aside as he placed his own hands on her stomach instead. His eyes closed and a faint blue light began to pulse under his fingers, steadily growing brighter. With each growing pulse, her pain lessened, slowly ebbing away until she was able to relax her muscles and breathe normally.

She let out a long sigh. “Thank you.” But Loki seemed to miss her sincere gratitude, frowning down at the sheets. “You should go see the good Doctor.” He said quietly, and as much as she didn’t want to, she agreed.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

To her great surprise, Loki accompanied her to find Bruce, and Natasha wasn’t sure whether she should feel uncomfortable or flattered. They found him in the huge marquee which was currently being set up as a makeshift hospital, SHIELD agents carried in and unpacked crates of medical supplies and gurneys were wheeled in and lined up. However, instead of being hard at work preparing for a war, Bruce and Tony seemed to be having an aerial battle with remote control helicopters.

“Ahem.” She coughed, raising an eyebrow, and she heard Loki snort behind her as the two geniuses looked at her like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

“Oh look, it’s my favourite pregnant assassin!” Natasha rolled her eyes at Tony.

“How are you Natasha?” Bruce asked, a friendly smile on his face.

“I’m fine.” She answered automatically, but Loki overruled her. “She is not fine, she is ill. Fix her.” She shot Loki a look but he merely stared ahead at the doctor, brows furrowed and expression serious.

“Ah, right then. Well um, take a seat and we’ll have a look, shall we?” Bruce looked uncertainly back and forth between them, and Natasha gave a curt nod.

Lying back on a cotton bed, Natasha explained the pain she had felt that morning. “Loki did some sort of spell to erase the pain, so I feel fine at the moment.” The god in question paced back and forth restlessly as Bruce moved the ultrasound transducer over her belly. “Well, the good news is your baby seems completely healthy.” Bruce finished up and wiped the goo from her abdomen. “However, the problem is that your body is under too much strain, and even with your advanced biomechanics, your condition is deteriorating. Under normal circumstances I would recommend elective caesarean, but…” Bruce trailed off as his gaze flicked to Loki who was shaking his head, his brows fixed in a permanent scowl.

“That will not work.” The two men turned to look at him and Natasha’s eyes followed his pacing form. “What do you mean it won’t work?” Stark demanded. “Why not?”

“The child will protect itself and its mother; its magic grows strong. If you try to remove it forcibly, it could kill everyone in the room.” There was a long moment of silence and Natasha felt a heavy hopelessness settle in her bones, panic stuttering her heartbeat. “So,” she finally spoke, voice small and weak, “what do I do?”

He met her gaze and she knew he could see in her eyes the desperation, the pleading, the dark and uncontrollable fear. He stopped pacing and strode to her side, clasping her hand in his, green eyes holding her steady. “Do not fret, Natasha. I have a plan. I will not let anything harm my child, or you. I have a plan.” She nodded solemnly and raised her hand to stroke his cheek. “I trust you, Loki.” And she actually meant it. Loki closed his eyes and leant into her touch, as if trying to savour it for the last time. “Don’t trust me. Trust my rage.” He told her, and then he left, coat whipping about behind him like his green cape once did.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Later that evening, Loki sought out Tony Stark, catching him away from the group as he got off the phone with Pepper. “Tony Stark,” Loki called as Tony slipped his cell phone back into his pocket, “may I speak with you a moment?”

“Sure, Rock of Ages, what’s up?” Stark followed Loki to a more secluded corridor. “There is something I must ask of you, something of vital importance.” Tony’s usual cocky grin was replaced with a sombre expression at the severity of Loki’s tone. “When the time comes, you must deploy the LBOD device.” Tony’s expression was confused, a little taken aback at the stone-faced god’s desperation. “Of course Loki, isn’t that the plan?” But Loki shook his head. “You must swear to me, on the roots of Yggdrasil, on the life of Lady Pepper, of your fellow Avengers, that no matter what happens, no matter the situation, you must activate the device.”

Tony Stark looked up at his former enemy, into the green eyes that were pleading with him. Tony wasn’t that well-versed in the whole spy thing; the mind games, the lying, the manipulation, but in that moment, all Tony saw was a friend who had been wronged, who had been through a hard time, and who was asking for his help.

Stark reached up to clap Loki’s shoulder, communicating his rare seriousness. “I swear.” Loki nodded, his expression solemn, “When I give the signal.” He instructed lastly, before departing, leaving Tony wondering what on earth the god was planning.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Loki ran into his mother on his way to see Natasha. She sat in the sand with Fenris curled up at her feet, watching the sun in its final death throes bathe the land in an eerily beautiful crimson. He hesitated a moment, before deciding to take a seat beside her. They sat in silence, simply watching the setting sun play with shadows.

Fenris raised his head from his paws, big gold eyes scorching his soul. _‘What madness are you planning now, father?’_ Loki smirked. _‘Who said I was planning anything?’_ Loki swore the wolf’s eyes narrowed.

 _‘Your lies may fool even the most brilliant of the realms, but your body cannot fool my nose. You smell like…sadness.’_ Loki merely raised an eyebrow. _‘A war will break out any moment now. Many will likely die. Is that not enough to make anyone sad?’_

 _‘Not you.’_ Fenris rolled onto his back, tongue lolling out of his mouth. If the wolf could smirk, Loki had no doubts he would be. _‘Ouch. Your words wound me.’_ Loki rolled his eyes, but granted Fenris’ silent request for a belly rub anyway. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his mother smirking at them. He turned his head, finally acknowledging her, and raised a questioning eyebrow.

“I am glad you two seem to be getting on so well.” And her smirk turned into a fond smile. “Did you think we wouldn’t be?” Loki asked, trying to hold back his own smirk. Frigga looked away from him, gazing off into the distance. “I don’t know what to think of you anymore.” Loki didn’t know why, but her words made his heart turn to ice in his chest and then drop like a stone into his stomach. They lapsed into silence once again.

Loki had never meant to hurt his mother, in fact, even when he had been at his lowest and most wrathful, she had been the one person he didn’t want to get hurt. But he had been so blinded by his own pain that he never stopped to think of the pain his actions may have caused her. The disgrace he had brought upon her. His heart ached now for his past grievances, but they were merely another number among the burdens his shoulders bore. He could not change the past, he could only rid the world of a few monsters for the sake of those he had wronged.

“Mother?” His voice was small, like he was once again a child, seeking protection from his tormentors in his mother’s arms. “Mmm?” She hummed, tearing her gaze from the now sunless sky and meeting his eyes with a smile. He hesitated, the words stuck in his throat. Shame bowed his head, and he found himself staring instead at his hand, watching the tiny shifts of his fingers cause granules of sand to cascade. “I’m sorry.” He told the sand. “I’m sorry for everything. I…” He broke off abruptly when her dainty hand trailed through the sand to clasp his. He looked up and was surprised to find his mother’s bright eyes swimming in tears.

“No Loki,” She told him softly, her voice gentle and soothing, “It is I who should be sorry. I and your father. We should have told you from the beginning. We betrayed your trust and caused you such heartache, and for that I am so very sorry, my son.” Loki shook his head. He wanted to tell her that she was not to blame for his monstrous nature; that he did not fault her for Odin’s actions; that he wouldn’t burden her much longer. But he said none of this. Instead he placed a hand on her hair and pressed a kiss to her forehead. He could not form the words for farewell and he hoped that this would be enough to tell her he loved her.

He stood, stretching his arm to keep her hand in his until she could reach no longer. Her fingertips fell from his and he turned his back to walk away.

 _‘Where’s my goodbye?’_ Fenris sassed in his head.

_‘Did you want a big kiss too?’_

He heard his son’s laughter in his head, and he knew Fenris would be alright. As he disappeared back inside, he heard the wolf’s final comment, _‘Don’t do anything stupid now, you hear?’_ Loki chuckled to himself; actually, he thought his plan was rather brilliant.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Loki spent the night by Natasha’s bedside, talking quietly when she was awake, and sitting deep in thought when she slept. He contemplated his plan as he watched her chest rise and fall beneath the thin sheet, considering all possible outcomes and difficulties. He dozed occasionally in his chair, and watched as the moonlight played over her skin, highlighting her beauty. The sky outside was beginning to lighten as Loki brought the back of her hand to his lips. Natasha stirred awake as he stroked her bright red curls.

“Natasha.” The rumbling lilt of his voice dragged her from slumber. “Natasha, my little spider. Worry not, I will protect you. I will not let anything harm you, or our child.” She blinked sleepily at him, still waking. “You wanted to save me, but that is not how our story goes. However, I can save you; my debt to you repaid, and my ledger a little less red.”

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she looked up into his deep green; he smiled but it was melancholy and sad. “What are you talking about?” She mumbled, her voice hoarse from sleep. She tried to sit up but Loki gently pushed her back down.

“Sleep, little spider.” His hands on her arms began to glow a faint blue, and she felt a sudden drowsiness invade her mind. “Sleep now, when you awake everything will be well. I promise you, Natasha. Sleep.” She tried to fight against his magic but her eyelids fluttered closed of their own accord and blackness overtook her consciousness. She felt the soft warmth of his lips press tenderly to her forehead. “This is goodbye, my love.” Was the last thing Natasha heard before succumbing to the deep slumber.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Loki smoothed back the red curls from her flawless face, steeling his resolve. He pressed his hand against the swell of her belly, hoping his unborn child would feel his warmth and know their father was once at their side. Loki drank in the sight of Natasha’s sleeping form, ingraining the image into his memory as the sun broke over the horizon, flooding the plane in light and painting the sky in pinks and oranges and gold. And then the alarms sounded, as he knew they would, as a gaping, black hole ripped the sky in half and the sunrise was blotted with the dark descent of monsters.

He let Natasha’s hand slip from his and, turning from her and striding from the room, he did not once look back. Outside, warriors of all races scurried back and forth and shouting filled the air. Thor found him, a wild look in his eye, and tossed him his sword. He caught it with deft fingers and tied the belt about his waist, the heavy weight reassuring at his side. Thor yelled something to him but Loki’s world seemed to have gone silent.

Thanos was here.

The war had begun.


	25. The War

* * *

_This is a fight to the death, our holy war_   
_A new romance, a Trojan whore_   
_I am the best she claimed and more_   
_A battle scarred conquistador_

_~ “Conquistador”, 30 Seconds to Mars_

* * *

The War of Midgard raged for three days, and later the bards and poets of Asgard ensured that the many heroic deeds of that battle were preserved in song and letter, to be passed down the generations. The tales told of great feats of courage, daring bravery, quick thinking, and the harrowing sorrow of the losses suffered, the friends and loved ones lost on the battlefield. But the tale that was told most often, was the tale of how the tide was turned, and the war won, and of the great sorrow that shadowed the victory.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

He was covered in blood; some his, most not. His chestplate was dented, his cape torn and bloody. A deep gash in his right leg caused him to limp slightly, and a dark burn stung the inside of his left arm. His clothes and skin were marred with a mix of dirt, sweat and blood, and his sword had been stained an eternal red. But the adrenalin made him numb to all of this, and he drove his blade through enemy after enemy. He felt his brother at his side, who looked just as bad, and they fought together as they held back the onslaught of monsters. Fenris fought on his other side, bounding into battle and tearing his foes apart with teeth and claws.

They had become separated from their friends during the night, and knew now nothing of their fates. The sky was dark and cruel, the sun hidden by the black wormhole and Thor’s dark clouds.

The brothers led a platoon of warriors forward against the eastern flank of Thanos’ army, trying to split the mass of enemies into smaller skirmishes. However, the Leviathans roared over their heads, carrying a never-ending supply of Chitauri to the battle and thwarting their efforts. Loki threw up shields when he could, or took out masses of Chitauri in one blast with his magic, but after two nights of no sleep and constant battle, it was beginning to drain him.

“Thor, duck!” Loki called out as he caught a Chitauri soldier launching something in their direction out of the corner of his eye. Thor dodged to the side just in time and the small, black device went whizzing over their heads, only to explode on impact a few metres away in a cloud of ash and sand. Thor shouted his thanks over the noise of another explosion behind them.

Loki pushed forward into the mêlée, summoning and flicking daggers of ice into his enemies at an alarming rate. Loki thought they were making some progress when another group of Chitauri dropped from a Leviathan as it roared overhead. The new onslaught of enemies pushed Thor up against him and the brothers fought back to back, creating a circle of death around them.

“This is not working!” Thor shouted over the sounds of battle. A grim smirk pulled at Loki’s mouth. “You’re planning something drastically stupid, aren’t you?” He heard Thor’s deep rumble of laughter behind him. “You know me too well, brother!” Loki rolled his eyes as he executed three more Chitauri soldiers.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Clint stood with the Elven archers, on the crest of a mighty sand dune to the west of the battlefield. Their waves of arrows took down hundreds of aliens, protecting the SHIELD base, but it seemed for every one they took down, two more replaced it. And the giant floating worm things were drifting ever closer, their scales almost impenetrable. One worm-monster soared overhead, letting out an ear-splitting roar that almost made Clint drop his bow in order to cover his ears. It dived and swooped over their heads again, closer this time, and Clint noticed the tiniest of gaps between its scales when it moved. With quick fingers, he notched up an exploding arrow and let it fly, before having to dive to the ground to avoid being crushed by the creature as it swooped down on them.

Clint rolled to his feet, other Elves picking themselves up beside him, but he kept his eyes trained on the tiny stick that was wedged under the scale. It blew in a flash of orange and a puff of black smoke, the metal piece falling to the ground below. “Everyone! Aim for the gap!” Clint called to anyone who would listen, and as the creature banked around to come at them again, a volley of arrows flew forth at the gap in the beast’s armour. Clint notched another exploding arrow and buried it in the creature’s soft underbelly. Orange flame rippled under it’s armour as the arrow exploded, and the creature let out a mechanical scream.

Clint wanted to fist pump the air, until he realised the flailing creature was heading straight for them. “Look out!” He yelled. “Everybody move!” Elves much taller than him stampeded to the side to avoid getting crushed by the worm-monster as it crashed to the ground in a plume of smoke and dust and a final shriek. Even as the creature died, Clint could still hear the screams of the Chitauri trapped inside as a fire roared to life inside the beast.

Black smoke and the stench of burnt flesh permeated the air as the archers regrouped. Far off in the centre of the battle, Clint caught a flash of green, and thought he heard a faint roar in the wind. He smiled grimly to himself. “About time, Bruce.”

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

“By Odin’s beard!” Volstagg exclaimed as the Hulk grew before his eyes. “Thor was not kidding.” Sif muttered under her breath. The Hulk smashed through handfuls of enemies at a time, swinging his mighty fists and sending Chitauri soldiers flying through the air. Morale boosted, Sif and Volstagg and the band of warriors they led leapt back into the fray, cutting down all the Hulk missed.

Suddenly, one of the great Leviathan creatures swooped low, and from its back a Chitauri shot at the crowd. “Look out!” Someone yelled, and Sif turned just in time to see a blue ball of deadly energy coming straight at her. At the last second, she dived to the side, but the blast caught her shoulder, and as she landed in the bloodied sand amongst the fallen corpses, she let out a strangled cry.

Volstagg was at her side in a second. “Lady Sif! Are you alright?” He took a knee beside her, dropping his battleaxe and trying to inspect her wound. The stench of burnt flesh stung her nose.

“I’m fine.” She waved him off, wincing as she rose to her feet. “Pick up your axe. It is just a flesh wound, it will heal.” She peered over at her shoulder, the flesh blackened and burnt and the wound in the centre raw and bleeding. With her good hand, she picked up her sword from where it had fallen and returned to the battle, pushing back the pain. She was a warrior, and if she were to die fighting for not only her own realm, but all the realms and all their peoples, then that would be the most noble and honourable death of all.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

“Dun, dun, dun, another one bites the dust!” Tony sang as he knocked out two Chitauri soldiers from their flying-hovercraft-motorbike-things with one blast.

“Stark!” Steve called from the ground below, “Quit screwing around, will you?” He ducked behind his shield as a Chitauri blast zoomed toward him, favouring his left side from the deep blast wound that marred his flesh there. He fired back, having commandeered a Chitauri weapon somewhere along the line.

“What do you mean, screwing around?” Stark yelled back, sending a constant pulse at a line of advancing enemies and incinerating them all. “Pretty sure my body count is higher than yours, grandpa.” Steve would have rolled his eyes if he wasn’t trying to decapitate five Chitauri soldiers at once before they decapitated him.

Stark took out another group of aliens before him, and Steve took the rare breather to look around and survey the situation. The Chitauri army was a dark mass in the centre of the golden sands, the allied forces surrounding them from the north, east and west, attempting to drive them back and away from the white peaks of the base camp in the distance. Behind him stood the tall plateau from which the archers felled dozens of enemies in waves, the smoking corpse of a Leviathan lay atop it. The sky could not be seen; dark with thunder clouds and blotted with the menacing shapes of Leviathans and Chitauri as they whizzed overhead on their hovercrafts.

The Chitauri were easy enough to kill, but their numbers seemed to be ever increasing; just when Steve felt as though they were making good progress and possibly turning the tide, more soldiers emerged from the Leviathans and replaced the ones they’d slain. And Steve was beginning to see a look of hopelessness creep into the eyes of the warriors around him. Something needed to be done.

“They just keep coming!” He called to Stark. “We need to take down their ships, how long til we can deploy LBOD?” He fought off more aliens as they rushed him, Stark landing beside him to help drive them back. “Loki said to wait for his signal.” He blasted half a dozen enemies.

“Well then, we need to regroup. Find Loki, find everyone else.” As he spoke, a deep rumble shook the ground beneath their feet and the black gash further split the sky. There was a horrible noise, like a low screech that echoed across the desert, and Steve could see the nose of a huge ship slide through the portal.

“That does not look fun.” Tony complained beside him as the enormous ship hovered in the atmosphere.

“Time to move.”

Stark grabbed him under the arms and took the both up into the air. “Roger that, Rogers.”

They flew over the battle, Steve blasting enemies out of the sky while Tony scoured the ground for a familiar face. “There!” Tony yelled as they approached the centre of the battle. The Hulk’s massive body stood out above the rest. Near him, the flash of ruby and emerald capes gave away Thor and Loki’s position.

The blast of a Chitauri weapon came from behind, knocking Stark in the back and forcing him to drop the Captain. He landed heavily, tucking into a roll to try and protect his injured side. He coughed and spat out the dry sand that had gotten in his mouth. A slim hand was presented to him, and he looked up into the face of Thor’s pretty lady friend. Blood covered the left side of her face from a gash at her temple and the armour on her left shoulder had been burnt away and the skin blackened, but her eyes were bright and fierce. He took her hand and lifted himself to his feet. “Thanks.” He muttered, and she nodded before returning to the fight.

Steve fought his way over to Loki and Thor, steering clear of the Hulk’s path. “Thor, Loki! What is that thing?” He pointed at the massive spaceship. Even as they looked on, the ship landed, and thousands more Chitauri soldiers came pouring out. A tall, smaller piece broke off from the front of the ship, hovering above the ground and moving forward toward the centre of the battle. As the hovercraft drew closer, Steve could see a dark figure standing on the deck that jutted out from the front.

He thought he heard Loki growl.

“Thanos.”

Loki turned to his brother. “Thor, cover me.” Thor gave a sharp nod and Loki dashed behind his brother, kneeling to the ground and beginning to make the complex motions that would open the rift into space. Reaching into the darkness, he retrieved the three small stones, stashing them quickly in his coat.

He turned to Rogers. “Captain, once we are close enough to Thanos, the Man of Iron will activate the magical-suppressor device; that will disable the Chitauri weapons. Once they are disarmed, take your men and destroy that ship.” He gestured over to the dark, hulking mothership that had landed behind the hordes of Chitauri. “Take down that ship and the Chitauri army will be rendered useless. No matter what happens, your focus must be on destroying that ship, understand?”

Steve nodded, his expression stern. “Copy that.” He grabbed the handheld radio from his belt. “All units, this is Captain Rogers.” He crackled into the speaker. “DELTA team, I need you front and centre. Report to my location; we’re gonna clear a path down the middle. SEAL six, peel off. I need two teams down south; take your biggest guns and flank that ship. Be prepared to blow that thing to high heaven.”

There was a chorus of crackly “Yes, sir!” and “Roger that!” as the teams sounded off and moved out. Steve returned to the fighting, ending up beside the Lady Sif as they beat their way through the forest of enemy soldiers. Somewhere along the way he had lost his Chitauri weapon, and had to rely on his shield and fists for a while before managing to pick up another from an alien corpse.

Tony zoomed overhead, firing blast after blast at their enemy, but he was taking hit after hit and his suit was beginning to damage badly. “Cap, hit the deck!” He heard Tony call and he dropped to the ground, pulling Sif down with him just as a square Chitauri grenade whizzed over their heads.

“Look out!” He called to those behind them, but it was too late. The grenade exploded on impact and the bodies of Asgardians and humans alike flew through the air with the dirt and smoke. He made to run back and aid the fallen, but Sif grabbed his wrist.

“Leave them.” Her eyes were as cold and stern as that of a soldier who has seen too many battles. “The healers will tend to those they can. There is nothing you can do for them.” Steve grit his teeth, hating the feeling of helplessness that washed over him.

The DELTA force arrived then, bringing with them a tank and two fully armed Jeeps. They fought hard, raining down a fire of bullets against the advancing army. Thor gathered dark clouds above him, bringing down great strikes of lightning and incinerating dozens at a time. Loki threw out great balls of energy, sucking up everything in its path like a black hole. The wolf, Fenris, fought by Loki’s side, the Chitauri blasts glancing off his silver armour as he ripped his enemies to shreds. The Hulk had been driven back somewhere behind them, having accidentally hitched a ride on a passing Leviathan before managing to wrench its mouth apart and break its jaw, driving it into the ground. Steve heard him coming towards them, footsteps shaking the ground and growing louder until he came sailing over their heads, landing amongst the alien army with swinging fists, sending bodies flying.

It seemed as though the tide was turning, their increased firepower making a decent dent in the Chitauri army and bringing them ever closer to Thanos. Steve could make out his huge purple face, cracked and inhumane. It reminded him a little of Red Skull who he had fought long ago during the War; he had the same crazed look. Then Thanos lifted his hand to the sky, and Steve caught a glimmer of gold as a multicolour ball of energy seemed to grow in his hand. As the ball expanded, the ground beneath them shook, rolling like a wave.

“Run!” Steve yelled, but the ground imploded like a dying star and then everything was a blur as they were all send flying back in a haze of fire and ash.


	26. The End of All Days, Part 1

Chapter 26. The End of All Days, Part 1

 _It’s the moment of truth and the moment to lie_  
_The moment to live and the moment to die_  
_The moment to fight, to fight, to fight_

_~ “This is War”, 30 Seconds to Mars_

 

Loki felt like his world had just been put in one of those whirring containers Natasha used to make her smoothies. He couldn’t feel his body, couldn’t feel anything. His vision swam, eyes seeing things but his brain not making sense of them, and the ringing in his ears blocked out any other sound. He turned his head to the side and tried to make his eyes focus on the dark shadow in front of him. His vision slowly cleared and he stared into the lifeless eyes of a fallen soldier. Asgardian, by his armour, and just a boy; probably not even a thousand years old.

Loki focused on the ground beneath him, on the grains of sand between his fingers, and suddenly everything caught up to him at once. The screams of dying men, the shouts and explosions and the constant rat-a-tat of firefight.

His body exploded in pain, his nerves on fire and his head throbbed. He rolled to his side, trying to get to his feet, but a horrible jerk on his left side told him something was terribly wrong. He looked down at the long, deep gash that sliced all the way up his torso, bleeding profusely and staining the sand beneath him red. He reached a hand down to feel the wound, and his fingers slipped easily inside. The feeling of his warm and gooey innards tore a strangled cry from his lips and made him want to retch. He called upon his magic, trying to heal himself, but it barely responded, the last trendils of it flickering weakly.

He let his head fall back heavily, for once out of ideas. He heard footsteps coming closer and something warm pressed against his head, nudging him until he opened his eyes. “Sleipnir.” He croaked in surprise at the tall, black beast above him. The steed snorted and whickered, nosing him again before he dropped down to his knees at Loki’s side. “If you’re here, where is Odin?” He asked the steed, knowing full well it could not answer.

Holding himself together and wincing against the gut-wrenching pain, Loki dragged himself over the beast’s wide back. He clung tightly to the horse’s mane as Sleipnir rose again. With his other hand he rummaged in the hidden folds of his vest until his fingers closed around a hard, oval shape. Clutching it tightly in his palm, he drew on its power, allowing it to feed and augment his own magic until his strength was restored. “To Thanos.” He instructed Sleipnir, and the steed moved smoothly through the fallen bodies and upturned ground. Tucking the red gem back into his cloak, Loki pressed his palm against his side and focused on healing his wound.

Loki adjusted his seat, swinging his leg over to straddle the steed and ride properly. “Faster.” He whispered, and Sleipnir broke into a gallop faster than any horse in all the Nine Realms. They weaved through the Chitauri army, many having to dive out of the way to avoid being trampled by Sleipnir’s hooves. They approached the elongated ship, thin and about the height of a two-story house, and on the deck that jutted from the centre stood Thanos, alone and grinning manically.

Loki noticed a narrow set of stairs built up the side of the ship, and with a practiced movement, he drew his feet up, crouching atop the horse’s back. “Steady.” He murmured, and Sleipnir smoothed his gait, drawing close alongside the ship. Loki tensed, timing his jump, before springing forth, leaping across to grab hold of the metal rungs, feet scrambling wildly for a moment before finding purchase. “Find Odin!” He shouted to Sleipnir, who peeled off and circled back as Loki began to ascend the ladder.

.

∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Thor groaned as the world came into focus around him. His head throbbed, as did his leg. He tried to sit up, causing a burning pain to sear through his leg. A soft voice cut through the agony.

“Be still, my Prince. Your leg is broken.”

Thor blinked rapidly, his vision clearing enough to see that Amora was crouched over him, her glowing hands hovering over the contusion on his leg. He winced at the sound of bone grinding and snapping back into place, but then the pain began to subside, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Are the others alright?” He asked, sitting up and testing out his mended leg.

“There were a few injuries but all are healed and well now. However…” She hesitated and Thor’s head snapped up, dreading the news.

Amora chewed on her bottom lip before answering. “I could not find Loki.”

Stark’s head appeared in his vision. “Hey Goldilocks, how you doing?”

Thor got to his feet, brushing off the sand. His friends and comrades and other warriors gathered before him. “I am well, but we must find my brother and stop Thanos. The damage he can inflict with that Gauntlet will be more than we can recover from.”

“Good plan, Rambo.” Stark flipped down his visor and took to the sky.

Thor thanked Amora as Steve organised the troops.

“Will you not fight with us?”

Amora shook her head. “I find my magic is put to better use this way. There are too many dead already. Good luck, Prince Thor.” Thor nodded once before spinning his hammer in his hand, joining Stark in the air.

Thor and Iron Man flew side by side, heading back to the front line, looking for the one that was still missing. “There! I see him!” Thor shouted, pointing ahead to a dark-haired figure who was bowed over a horse.

“I think my visor is broken again. Does that horse actually have eight legs?” Tony remarked.

“Aye. My father’s steed, Sleipnir. Which means my father should be nearby.”

“This way!” Thor called down to those below, the rest of the team riding in the one Jeep that had survived the blast. The Hulk and Fenris bounded ahead, clearing a path towards Thanos. As they reached the centre of the fighting, a mere 200 yards from the foot of Thanos’ ship now, Thor noticed more familiar faces.

“Father.” He landed, kicking up dust with the impact. “Frandal, Hogun. My friends, you have missed all the action!” He laughed as he swung his hammer, sending a few Chitauri flying.

“On the contrary! The All-Father has lead us in the most glorious battles!” Frandal fought like a dancer, sword spinning and flashing.

Sif, Steve and Volstagg leapt from the Jeep as it pulled up, followed by what was left of the DELTA team, and Clint with three of the Elven archers, who they had picked up along the way.

“Thor, my son. Where is Loki?” Odin rumbled, a permanent frown etched onto his face as he blasted through Chitauri with his spear.

Before Thor could answer, Stark dropped to the ground beside him. “Yeah about that,” he raised his hands, shooting down two Chitauri who leapt forward to attack. “Apparently your son thinks he’s in an Indiana Jones movie.” And he pointed over to the ship.

Both Asgardians looked confused at the reference, but their eyes widened as they looked over and saw Loki standing on horseback, before leaping daringly across to the ship. “What is he doing?” Thor exclaimed, “Does he mean to take on Thanos alone?”

They watched as Loki reached the deck and strode towards the Titan. Stark took off, prepared to come to Loki’s aid when Thanos attacked.

But it didn’t happen.

Instead, they greeted each other like old friends.

“No way.” Tony gasped, floored. They stared in shock as Loki took his place by Thanos’ side. “I knew it!” Clint spat, anger seething, “Lying, manipulative bastard. We should never have trusted him in the first place!”

“Brother!” Thor called out, unwilling to believe, “What is the meaning of this? Have you forgotten everything that has happened?”

Loki’s laughter echoed through the air. “Have you?” He demanded. “Did you really not see this coming? Did you not foresee this of the family monster? The Dark One? The outcast?”

“Loki,” Odin thundered, “End this madness now!”

Loki sneered. “You command me no longer, All-Father.” He spat, expression twisted in hate.

“Don’t do this Loki.” Thor appealed to his brother, “What of Natasha and-“

But Loki cut him off. “DO NOT SAY HER NAME!” He roared, “It matters not, now. Surrender or die, brother. Those are your choices. I suggest you choose the first.”

Thor shook his head, a heavy sadness sinking into his bones at his brother’s betrayal. “You know I cannot do that.”

Loki snarled, “So be it.” He stepped back, resigned to his fate.

“Do you have the other gems?” Thanos asked him. Loki smirked, “No, but I know exactly where they are.” Thanos grinned wide, showing off yellowed teeth, and Loki suppressed a shudder. Thanos held his hand outstretched, and the jewels on the Gauntlet glowed, the yellow Reality gem brighter than the rest.

The earth began to shift and undulate beneath their feet, a low rumble echoing across the expanse of sand. The ground shook, and with a crack like thunder, a hole opened up, growing larger and larger, sand pouring into the gash like a hungry mouth. The Chitauri scrambled back from the edges, some slower ones falling into the widening fissure. As their dying screams faded into the abyss, an almighty, monstrous roar echoed up from the dark, setting everyone on edge.

A steady whooshing sound arose from the hole and the Avengers stepped back, uneasy, as it grew louder. “What the fuck…” Tony breathed as something moved in the darkness. Another deafening roar pierced the sky as a huge beast shot up from the earth, sailing into the air. Steve stared up at the creature, mouth hanging open in utter shock.

“Is that actually…”

“A dragon.” Thor finished, gripping the handle of Mjolnir more tightly.

The beast opened its wings, blocking out the dark sky as it circled high above like a vulture. Its scales were a deep purplish-red, its eyes golden and fierce. Two sharp horns sprouted from its head and curved backwards and its ridged spine lead to a tail that was spiked like a mace. Its wings were spined and semi-transparent like a bat, and a sharp claw adorned each spine.

“So um, has anyone seen ‘The Hobbit’ yet? Cause I have no idea how to kill a dragon.” Stark commented.

Clint notched up an arrow, “Process of elimination, I guess.” And he let the arrow fly.

Though his aim was true, the arrow merely bounced off the dragon’s thick hide and fell harmlessly to the ground. The dragon, however, turned in their direction and swooped low.

“Great, you got its attention.” Stark remarked, “What was step two?”

“Um, run?” Clint shouted as the dragon roared. They dived to the side as the beast breathed a line of fire where they had been standing. The Jeep crackled and burned before the engine blew, and the ground charred and blackened.

“Alright Spyro, time to fix that indigestion problem.” Stark snapped his helmet shut and zoomed overhead, Thor on his heels.

“Right, guess that leaves these tyrants to us.” Steve eyed the two aliens on the deck of the spaceship. He buried his emotions and became the soldier, not wanting to admit that he had actually trusted Thor’s younger brother. “We need to bring them down to our level. Take that ship down.” He instructed the DELTA soldiers. “Clint, you and your buddies keep the Chitauri off our backs.”

“Got it.” Clint nodded. The Elves spread out, putting an arrow in anything that came too close. With a roar, the Hulk bounded forward, smashing Chitauri out of his path and leaping over the gaping hole to wrap his thick arms around the thin base of the ship. He squeezed and the metal dinted and bent, shaking the aircraft.

The DELTA soldiers prepared the remaining rocket launcher that had survived the dragon attack. They fired at the rotors that allowed the tall ship to hover above the ground, at the same time, Odin fired his spear, the resulting explosion causing the ship to lean heavily and a huge plume of black smoke poured from the back.

The Hulk smashed his shoulder against the ship, ripping apart the metal he could reach with his bare hands. The aircraft tilted further to the side, and the Hulk leapt up on it, driving it into the ground and forcing Loki and Thanos to abandon ship.

Thor and Tony blasted the dragon from each side, trying to dodge its fiery breath at the same time. “Hey Bruce, could use a hand here buddy.” Tony shouted down. He blasted the dragon in the face to grab its attention, then flew low towards Banner, an angry dragon following closely behind.

The Hulk growled as the dragon flew by with its mouth open, about to turn Stark into a human comet. He jumped for its back, grabbing hold of its wing instead and causing it to bank hard, the fireball missing Stark by inches. The Hulk and the dragon crashed to the ground, and Odin and Steve rushed to help keep the beast grounded, Fenris mauling a clear path for them.

Thor doubled back, hammer aloft he gained speed, aiming to crash into Thanos and crush him. But Thanos lifted his golden gloved hand and swatted Thor aside like a fly, hammer and all.

Tony flew up as Thor crashed into the ground. He swooped down, blasting at Loki who threw up a magical shield. Tony soared past and cut his thrusters to turn sharply, flipping over and zooming back fast enough to catch Loki off-guard and tackle him to the ground.

They grappled on the ground like teenagers, before Loki managed to kick Stark off.

“Y’know, you really had me going there. You should have done drama in high school, Lokes.”

Stark got to his feet and fired a blast at Loki, who appeared to catch it with his bare hands, spinning with the motion and sending the ball of energy straight back at Tony. Stark flew through the air and crashed into the sand.

Loki was on him in a heartbeat, and with a swift motion, he ripped off his helmet. Stark looked up into a face that was once his friend, now will probably be the last face he ever saw. Loki’s eyes were dark and an evil smirk lit his face; no longer was this the man who Tony had fought a snowball war with, this was the man who destroyed Manhattan. Loki leaned in close, and Stark squeezed his eyes shut and thought of Pepper.

“Now, Son of Stark! Do it now!” Loki hissed in his ear.

Tony’s brain drowned in stunned confusion for a moment, before his eyes widened in realisation. “You…” He started to say, but both men were distracted by Thanos’ cackling laughter as he held a bloody and beaten Thor up by the throat.

Sif and Frandal charged at him, but Thanos sent them flying back with a flick of his hand, Frandal almost falling into the gaping abyss if Volstagg had not caught him by the foot.

“Thor!” Came Odin’s gravelly shout, and he launched his spear. It flew through the air as if in slow motion, aimed directly for Thanos’ chest. The Titan turned at Odin’s shout and dropped Thor to the ground, the spear’s aim true for one glorious second.

But with a wave of his gloved hand, Thanos wasn’t there anymore, Odin was, and it was his heart the spear pierced.

There was frozen shock; nobody moved except for Odin, who glanced down at his own spear that protruded from his chest, his eyes wide and his breath strained as it left his body. He collapsed to the ground and suddenly time was full speed again.

With a roar, Thor called his hammer to his hand and raced to destroy Thanos, his rage fuelling him blindly. Hogun and Sif sprinted to their fallen king, tending to him as best they could. Loki, wide-eyed, forgot Stark and dashed around the crevasse to where Thor and Thanos were fighting. Steve, Bruce and Fenris still battled the dragon, now with a Hulk’s fist-sized hole through its wing that kept it grounded, yet it still spewed fire in every direction. Clint and his archers and the human soldiers held off the Chitauri as best they could, but their numbers were dwindling, and the supply of Chitauri seemed to be never-ending.

It was utter chaos.

Tony grabbed his helmet and yanked the microphone from it. “JARVIS!” He shouted frantically, “Activate LBOD! Do it now!” He heard a faint ‘Yes sir’ from inside the helmet, and for a few, heart-stopping seconds it seemed like nothing happened.

Then, on the horizon, he could see something approaching, changing. It was like an invisible wave, a ripple through the air, emanating from the white peaks of the base tent and rolling across the land. The blue lights on the Chitauri weapons died as the wave rolled over them, and many abandoned the useless guns, fighting instead with their fists. But they were no longer a match for the well-armed Asgardians and humans. The huge Leviathans fell from the sky, crushing all who could not get out of their path fast enough. The wave rolled out to the edge of the army, and there it hit the mothership. The ship dropped the few meters back to the ground, dust clouds puffing up around it.

The tide of the war was turning.

“SEAL team, open fire!” Steve yelled into his radio as he hid behind his shield from a blast of dragon fire. Far away, small explosions could be heard as the mothership rocked back and forth with the impacts.

Loki reached Thanos just as he sent Thor flying back into the distance. “Thanos! They have found a way to disarm the Chitauri weapons. Your army is failing.”

Thanos growled, facing him. “Bring the other gems to me. Now!” But Loki only grinned wickedly, the sneer slowly crawling across his face, and Thanos’ expression turned from anger to shock. “Do you recall, War Titan, one night, after the beatings and the breakings and the games of torture, after you’d ripped the flesh from my bones, after I’d been burnt alive and choked on my own blood, I asked you a question. Do you remember that? I asked you to kill me. And what was it you said?” Loki paused, tapping his chin in a mockery of deep thought. “Ah, that’s right. You said ‘Not until I’ve watched you betray the world and spend the rest of your eternal life in lonely agony.’ Well, I’ve betrayed the world Thanos, and now I’ve betrayed you too.” Loki smirked, and Thanos barrelled towards him, his face painted in rage. He let out a monstrous, bloodcurdling roar.

Thanos raised his arm to strike…

… And, in a flash of light, Loki joined the three tablets and, with the last of his strength, plunged them into the Titan’s chest.

A bright, white light exploded from the impact, blinding him and everyone in the vicinity. Tony, who saw what had happened and had begun to fly to Loki’s aid, had to land, unable to see without his visor. Steve was blinded while fighting the dragon, and suffered a large gash to his arm. The Chitauri fled and Sif and the Warriors Three were forced to look away. Thor shielded his eyes and struggled on to where he thought Thanos and his brother were.

A fierce wind whipped up, swirling out like a vortex from the Trickster and the Titan, and Thor fought against it, desperately calling Loki’s name. Over the howling of the wind he could faintly hear his brother’s voice, chanting.

 _“Ég gef þér þessa anda, og taka aftur unnusti minn._  
_Ég gef þér anda minn, og taka aftur barnið mitt._  
_Með krafti líf, dauða og óreiðu.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Whoaaaaa Loki did it! …..or did he? Mwahahaha >:D
> 
> Yes, I know, the cliffhanger was evil, but it had to be done! Don’t worry, I promise you guys will like the next chapter! Well kind of….
> 
> Keep up the reviews guys! Love hearing from you :)


	27. The End of All Days, Part 2

Chapter 27. The End of All Days, Part 2

 _Feet don’t fail me now, take me to the finish line_  
_Oh my heart, it breaks every step that I take_  
 _Choose your last words, this is the last time_  
 _Cause you and I, we were born to die_

_~ “Born to Die”, Lana del Rey_

 

“Your Highness! Your Highness!” A young healer called, pushing her way through the busy tent and doing her best to ignore the pained screams and cries for help. “Queen Frigga.” She called as she finally caught sight of the queen’s gold cloak.

The queen turned to her, sleeves rolled up and looking a little pale from the constant magic use. “What is it, Halldóra?”

“Tis the Lady of Midgard! Her water has broken. Her child is coming. Hurry!” And Halldóra rushed off, Frigga following close behind.

Natasha lay where Loki had left her, a small puddle darkening the sheets beneath her as another healer cleaned the water off the floor. Though her contractions had likely started, Natasha still slept heavily, her chest rising and falling evenly. Frigga lay her hands on either side of the mortal’s face, searching.

“It seems my son has put her in a deep sleep. We need to wake her so she is able to push. Set up a curtain and send for a bucket of warm water and some towels. And find me that little dark-haired Midgardian doctor.”

The two women rushed off to follow their queen’s orders, and Frigga closed her eyes, lifting the sleeping spell from Natasha’s mind. Natasha’s eyes slowly opened, blinking through the bright light and the haziness as her consciousness returned. “What…”

And then the pain hit her. She grimaced and gripped the sheets as another contraction rolled through her. She looked up into Frigga’s concerned face. “My baby’s coming?” Her voice sounded small and weak, not at all the voice of the Black Widow. Frigga nodded, tenderly brushing a strand of her hair from her face.

Another wave of pain hit her and Natasha screamed, feeling like her body was being ripped apart from the inside.

“Don’t fight it, Lady Natasha, you need to push.” She slipped her hand into Natasha’s, and the assassin clutched it in a death grip. “Bend your knees up.” Frigga instructed, “Deep breaths.”

Natasha tried to focus on her breathing, but the pain constantly ripped screams from her throat. A short woman arrived dressed in SHIELD-issued scrubs and wheeling a cardiac monitor behind her. Thick glasses framed her face and her dark hair was cropped short, and when she spoke, her Russian accent strangely soothed Natasha.

“Natasha is it? Doctor Vera Rozhkov. You relax now, okay? I look after you.” The doctor adjusted the bed so Natasha could sit up, easing the strain on her back, and began attaching wires to her chest. Despite the pain crowding her mind, Natasha glanced around, assessing her surroundings.

Behind the white curtain that provided her privacy, Natasha caught glimpses of medics in green scrubs and healers in white tunics running around. The wounded lined the beds, bloody bandages decorating various body parts. Beds overflowing, more injured soldiers camped in corridors and corners, and the air was thick with cries of pain and the stench of blood.

In the distance, Natasha spotted Nick Fury lying on a table, bloodstained bandages wrapped around his waist. Beside him in a chair sat Maria Hill, her leg plastered up to the thigh and crutches by her side.

Natasha pulled one of the healers to her side, the young blonde looked barely sixteen. “That lady, with the broken leg. Get her for me?” The girl nodded, wide-eyed, and hurried off.

“Push now, _milaya_ , keep pushing.” Natasha tried, squeezing Frigga’s hand and breathing through the pain, the heart monitor beeped furiously and sweat poured down her face.

Maria hopped to her bedside, crutches clacking. “Hill.” Natasha grunted. “What’s the situation? What’s everyone’s status?”

“Fury took a shot to the abdomen. Heavy bleeding but he’ll pull through. We’re waiting on one of the Asgardians to fully heal us, but there are others worse off than us. Last I heard, everyone else was alive, but it’s a bloodbath out there. Massive casualties on both sides. The Council was talking about dropping another nuke, but Fury managed to talk them out of it.” Natasha nodded, “Good. Have you seen Loki?”

Hill shook her head, “The others come back every now and then for rest and food, but I haven’t seen Thor or Loki. I guess they don’t need to eat like us humans do.” Natasha had to turn away from Maria as another burst of pain shocked her body. She grit her teeth, trying not to cry out in front of a fellow agent, and gripped Frigga’s hand so hard that, had she been human, she probably would have cracked bone.

Hill shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “I’ll um, go let Fury know.”

“Hill.” Natasha groaned as she turned away, “If you can…find a way to…tell Loki, he…needs to know it’s…happening now.” She ground out between pushes. Vera was at her feet, murmuring encouragement, though Natasha mostly tried to ignore that a complete stranger was looking up her hoo-ha. Hill placed a comforting hand on her shoulder before she left. And Natasha had nothing to focus on now but the pain.

She pushed when Vera instructed her, feeling like her whole body was being torn in two, the pain making her want to throw up. One of the young healer girls patted her forehead with a damp cloth. That was nice.

Frigga leaned down then, until she could murmur in Natasha’s ear, “The child is my son’s, isn’t it?” Natasha looked into her eyes and saw that the deep golden brown held nothing but love and concern, begging her for the truth.

“How did you know?”

A soft smile tugged at Frigga’s mouth. “I saw the way he looked at you.” She said, and her confession made Natasha’s heart skip a beat. No, seriously, she could see the big gap between peaks on the heart monitor. “He loves you, you know.” And this time, it was Natasha’s turn to smile softly.

“I know.” She breathed. “And I know that he knows, he just doesn’t want to admit it.” They shared a brief moment, the Queen of Asgard and the infamous Black Widow, connected by their love of the youngest Prince.

And then things started to go terribly wrong.

Natasha felt something tear inside of her, and pain exploded in her abdomen. She screamed.

Vera barked out orders. “Find me another doctor! And bring the surgical kit!”

“What is happening?” Frigga questioned, desperation and concern lacing her voice.

“Natasha, you have a placental abruption. The baby is suffocating and you are haemorrhaging massively. I need to do C-section, get baby out or you both die, understand?” Vera started to lift her gown to prep her abdominal for surgery, but Natasha held her off.

“No, no, you can’t. Loki said you can’t cut me or the baby will lash out and hurt everyone.” She turned to Frigga, desperately looking for someone to understand. “Frigga, you can’t let them. The baby’s magic…”

But suddenly Natasha couldn’t breathe anymore. Blackness closed in on her vision, and everything sounded muffled and far away.

“Her BP is dropping!” Someone with a Russian accent yelled. Who was that?

“Williams! Get the defib!”

She fought to open her eyes, but everything was drifting out of her reach. An image flickered in her mind before unconsciousness took her, of dark hair and mischievous green eyes, and she wondered where he was and wished she had got to see him one last time.

.

∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Loki, like everyone else, was blinded by the light and deafened by the wind, but he was still able to think clearly, and he knew what he was doing.

Thanos’ large, purple hand reached up and closed around his throat, but it was too late, the spell was already taking hold. He felt weaker as the life flowed out of him and the lights glowed brighter. Thanos’ hand slackened and then fell from his neck, and Loki wondered if he was already dead. He felt his heartbeat slow and closed his eyes.

It wouldn’t be long now.

.

∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

“Clear!”

Natasha arched off the bed as a tall, handsome doctor pumped electricity through her chest. To her side, Vera worked on the tiny baby they had pulled forcefully from Natasha’s womb. The doctor waited but the machine still screamed at him, the flat green line showing no response.

“Clear!” He tried again.

.

∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

“Loki!” He heard Thor’s voice grow closer over the howl of the wind. “Loki! What are you doing?”

Strong arms wrapped around him, and Loki wanted to smile at the warmth and comfort, but he no longer had the energy. He wished he could see his brother’s face, but everything was white.

“Thor,” He tried to yell, but his voice was softer than a whisper. Thor leaned in closer, hugging his brother’s fading body to his.

“I’m sorry…brother. I’m sorry for everything.”

The light began to dim then, and the wind started to die down, and the outline of Thor’s face started to come into view. Loki was shocked to see he was crying. He tried to lift a hand to wipe away the tears, but his body wouldn’t respond.

He was out of time.

.

∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

The machine blared, a mournful song. The doctor sighed heavily. “Time of death, 16:08.”

Frigga had a hand pressed to her mouth, a look of shock paled her face. Hill stood just behind the curtain, her hands clenching and unclenching as she tried to hold herself together.

“And the baby?” Frigga asked, her voice cracking. Vera shook her head sadly. “I’m very sorry.” She murmured softly.

A single tear escaped Frigga’s golden gaze.

.

∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

“Tell…Natasha…” Breath failed to fill his lungs and the darkness pulled him under. “I…”

But the life left his body, and for a brief moment, for the first time since he was a small child, Loki felt the pain, and the hate, and the darkness lift from his heart, and he felt peace.

And then death took him.

.

∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

As the wind died and the dust cleared, Tony Stark cautiously moved toward the three prone figures in the centre of this mess.

Stark’s heart dropped into his stomach when he saw one of the figures hunched over another. He drew closer, not wanting to believe it, not even when he was standing right beside the two brothers. Stark’s whole body ached seeing the gentle giant of a man hunched over his younger brother’s lifeless body, his shoulders shaking silently as he clutched Loki to his chest.

“No,” Thor muttered, “no, no, no. Get up brother, open your eyes.” Thor pushed Loki’s dark hair back off his pale face, tucking it behind his ear and searching desperately for the tiniest sign of life. But there was none. “Brother, please. I’ve already lost you once, I can’t…I can’t lose you again, please. Loki…” Thor’s voice broke on his brother’s name and he crumpled, burying his face in Loki’s still chest as he sobbed. Tony felt like he was about to vomit up his heart.

Steve’s hand gripped his shoulder, and that’s when Tony realised he was shaking, trembling like a leaf in a hurricane. He looked to Steve, saw that the soldier’s eyes were watering, and looked away, tears cutting clear tracks down his own ash-coated face.

That tricky bastard. He had fooled them all, and then he had fooled them again. He had planned the whole thing all along, two steps ahead of everyone. And then he’d gone and saved them all, saved the whole damn universe.

Stark recalled with sudden clarity the last time he had spoken to Loki before the fighting began. He’d asked Stark to take down the Chitauri ships, no matter what. That bastard knew, he _knew_ he was going to die and he _didn’t say a damn thing_. And Tony… Tony didn’t even get to say goodbye.

.

∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

There was nothing.

No sight or sound. No sense of time or direction. Natasha couldn’t even tell if she was conscious or unconscious, floating or falling.

And then she heard something. A voice, far off, but steadily growing louder. It called her name.

“Natasha.”

She thought she knew that voice. “Natasha.” She didn’t know who it was, but they were calling her, drawing her to them like a moth to a flame.

Beep.

Another noise. Where had that come from?

Beep. Beep. Beep.

It was steady, and growing louder, while the voice that called her grew softer. She fought it, trying to claw her way back to the voice that promised peace and comfort and all the things she never had. But the beeping took over, and eventually she couldn’t hear the voice anymore.

“Natasha?”

“Miss Romanov?”

Natasha blinked blearily, waiting for the world to come back into focus. Her brain sorted out the jumbled sounds she was hearing and she realised the beeping was her own heart monitor. The fuzzy faces above her sharpened, and she wondered what Agent Hill and the Queen of Asgard were doing together. Then she heard the cry of a child and the world fell into place.

Natasha sat up, surprised to find that there was no more pain, not even between her legs.

“What happened?” Her eyes landed on the two doctors. “The baby, is it…” She trailed off, afraid of the answer, but Vera smiled.

“It’s a girl.” And she presented the wailing baby to its mother.

Natasha held the baby like she was cradling a bomb. She was not prepared for this, she had no idea what to do with a child, why had she ever thought this was a good idea? And then the child seemed to quieten, and when Natasha hesitantly pulled her in to her chest, her eyelids fluttered open and Loki’s bright emerald eyes stared back at her.

Hill and Frigga stood over her shoulder, a silent comfort. Frigga cooed softly to her child and she felt Hill lay a hand on her shoulder.

“Good to have you back, Agent. For a minute there, I thought we’d lost you.” She murmured solemnly. Vera cleaned her glasses on the corner of her shirt. “Yes, I cannot explain. You and baby both clinically dead. It is miracle.”

“No, not a miracle. Magic.” Frigga explained softly as she gazed warmly at the sleeping face of her grandchild. The child’s little fist closed around Natasha’s pinky, and she marvelled at the strength in those tiny fingers. She was so beautiful, and Natasha knew in that moment, that she would give her life to protect her. She felt like the Grinch, whose heart had grown three sizes (yes, she had seen that move, Clint made her).

They heard the sound of an explosion, muted and far off, followed by an echoing cheer. Frowning, she glanced at Hill, who seemed to be thinking the same thing. “I’ll go check it out.” She said with a sharp nod, and hobbled away.

Natasha looked down fondly at her sleeping child, taking in the delicate features and trying to come to terms with the tiny, precious life she and Loki had created. She was eager for Loki to return and meet their child, she couldn’t wait to see the look on his face. This child would be good for him, she knew it.

“She’s going to look just like Loki.” She murmured, looking up at Frigga. The Queen’s eyes shone with unconditional love, and Natasha thought that this is what it would be like if her own mother was with her. “But she’s going to have your fire, dear.” Frigga noted, stroking her fingertips over the strawberry blonde peach fuzz that covered the baby’s head. Natasha smiled.

Natasha hesitated for a moment. “Would you like to hold her?” She offered the baby to Frigga, whose eyes went wide.

“Oh, it would be my honour!” Gently, she took the baby from Natasha’s arms, cradling her close. “Have you thought of a name yet, dear?” Natasha paused, frowning.

“No.” She answered honestly, “We never really discussed it. I guess I should ask…” But she trailed off as Hill came shuffling back.

“We won! Stark must have activated LBOD and they managed to destroy the mothership, which means all the Chitauri are down. We’ve won!” Hill barked a laugh of relief and Natasha smiled. “I have to inform Fury.” Hill dismissed herself and hobbled away again.

Grinning like an idiot, Natasha found her clothes and began to dress herself, eager to get out of her hospital bed and back onto the field. As she laced up her boots, she heard shouting, and then Thor burst into the tent, bloody and distressed, carrying a fellow warrior in his arms.

“Healers!” He boomed, “I need healers! Now!” He turned his back to her and raced towards the other end of the tent where the healers were clearing a space. Hogun and Sif then appeared in the doorway, carrying between them the King, Odin.

She heard a gasp beside her and looked up to see Frigga’s ashen face, her eyes wide and disbelieving. “Frigga.” She murmured, reaching up for the child, offering to take her back.

The Queen carefully handed the newborn over, nodded once in thanks, and rushed off to be by her husband’s side.

Her boys arrived then; Clint, Steve, Tony and Bruce, who had de-Hulked, followed by Volstagg and Frandal and a few Elves. They were bloody and beaten up, but they were alive. Natasha scanned the group that had just arrived and noticed there was one missing, and suddenly she had a cold, twisting, sick feeling in her gut.

Natasha turned and spotted the doctor packing up, “Doctor Vera,” She called, getting to her feet. The doctor came to her. “Do you think, would it be alright if you…” Vera smiled brightly.

“Don’t worry, _milaya_ ,” she held out her arms to take the child, “I look after gorgeous girl. You go now.” Natasha allowed a smile to cross her face in gratitude. “ _Spasibo_.” She thanked the doctor and hurried over to the Avengers, amazed to find that she felt back to her pre-baby self, as if she had been completely healed.

Clint was the first to spot her. “Natasha! Are you alright?” The archer enveloped her in a hug. “I’m fine.” She said as he pulled away, “Better than fine, actually.”

Stark pushed forward, still dressed in his suit though it was badly damaged and the helmet was missing. “And what about the little guy?”

“Girl, actually.” She glanced around at her boys, the only family she’d ever had, and a grin split her face as she made the announcement.

“It’s a girl!”

A cheer went up and they pulled her into a huge group hug, congratulating her and suffocating her at the same time. And underneath the crush of male bodies, Natasha actually laughed.

“Where is Loki?” Needing to breathe, Natasha ducked out of the scrum, still grinning. “I need to tell him.”

But instantly their faces fell, and not one of them could answer her, or look her in the eye, and straight away she knew.

“Thor.” She breathed, her face hardening. She felt so cold. “That’s who Thor carried in, isn’t it?” She didn’t wait for a reply, but marched off to where Thor had gathered the healers.

She pushed through the crowd to the centre where the two bodies lay side by side. Odin’s eye was closed, a huge, bloody hole in his chest. Frigga knelt at his side, holding his pale hand in hers. Thor stood over his brother, and when Natasha moved to his side, she saw his eyes were red and puffy, tears streamed freely down his face and his shoulders shook in silent sobs.

Loki’s face was even more pale, and many tiny cuts marred his face and hands. Dark blood stained the cloth around the deep gash on his leg and a round patch of skin on his arm was blackened and burnt. His armour was split down one side of his torso, and beneath it, Natasha could see a wound that had been half healed, but still ran far too deeply.

“What happened.” Natasha demanded, her voice hard as the Black Widow took over. Thor didn’t answer, his sorrow too consuming. Steve stepped forward, and she only then realised that the others had followed her. “He went to Thanos. I thought – we all thought that he had turned.” He gazed solemnly at Loki’s body.

“Ýeah, guy could have been an actor in another life.” Tony moved forward, giving a humourless chuckle. Steve continued as Tony lapsed into silence. “He got close to Thanos, he used the Tablets and killed him, but…” He trailed off, unsure of the explanation, but Thor finally broke his silence.

“He saved you.” His voice was a cracked whisper.

“What?” Natasha hid her shock.

“He did a spell. He knew the child would kill you both, so he used the Tablets to exchange Thanos’ life for the child’s, and his for yours. He gave his life to save you.” Thor’s voice broke and he fell back into silent sobs.

Natasha was in shock, her face paled as she tried to wrap her head around it. She was silent for a long while, head bowed so her hair hid her face, and they began to worry. But when she looked up, she didn’t look sad or upset, she looked angry. “Idiot.” She spat, and the Avengers looked to one another, a little taken aback at her reaction.

“Natasha, it’s okay to grieve.” Bruce tried to comfort her, but she ignored him, turning to Thor instead with a fierce look on her face. “You said it was a spell, that’s why your healers can’t just fix him, right?” Thor stuttered, shocked at how much she reminded him of Loki in that moment, always with a plan. “R-right.”

“So then what about other magic? Spells, books – your people have books on magic right? I’ve seen a library…”

“Natasha.” Thor tried to tell her, but she ignored him, she was on a roll. “Magical artefacts, like the Gauntlet. Gather everything you can, there must be something we can…”

“Natasha.” Thor tried again, a little louder.

“SHIELD will share all information they have, I’ll make sure of that. If you have contacts with other worlds…”

“Natasha!” Thor pulled her into a hug, crushing her to his chest in order to hold her together or to hold himself together, he didn’t know. He felt her go completely stiff and still in his arms. “He’s gone, Natasha.” His voice cracked and he began to sob again, not so silently this time.

Once again, he had failed his brother, and this time he couldn’t make it right. “I’m sorry. I know you loved him as much as I.” Tears dipped off his nose and disappeared into Natasha’s flaming hair. He didn’t bother to hold them back. His father was gone now too, and Thor wasn’t sure he could live another four thousand years without his brother by his side.

“My brother is gone.” He whispered, and he felt Natasha sag against him, her small body beginning to shake in his arms.

“He’s dead.”

 

 


	28. The Mourning

Chapter 28. The Mourning

_It's easier to believe in this sweet madness_  
_Oh this glorious sadness_  
_That brings me to my knees_  
_In the arms of the angel_  
_Fly away from here_

_~ “In the Arms of the Angel”, Sarah McLachlan_

 

Natasha refused to talk. She refused to eat, or sleep. She even refused to hold her child, feeding it every few hours only to return her to the nurses. Life bustled on around her, but she refused to acknowledge it. She sat by his bedside, unthinking, unfeeling, just staring at his face and willing his eyes to open.

Her friends came one by one, both to comfort her and pay their respects.

Clint came first, a silent comfort. He sat beside her, a hand on her shoulder, knowing she didn’t want words.

Tony came next, cracking inappropriate jokes until he burst into tears, and Bruce had to lead him away. She never thought she’d see that man break.

Steve came to her with kind words and reassurance, telling her the pain would get better with time. She didn’t have the heart to tell him he was wrong.

Thor had sat with her the first day clutching his brother’s cold, lifeless hand in his and alternating between crying and irrational anger. But he was soon forced away as his new duties of King caught up with him. Fallen comrades had to be collected and each given proper funerals, the injured had to be taken care of, and the Infinity Gauntlet destroyed; though suspiciously, one of the gems was missing, and though they searched, it was never recovered, and they assumed it was lost to the desert sands.

Many of the Asgardians and Elves left, some taking the bodies of friends and family with them to be buried on their homeworld. The remaining were given their funeral rites, and the sky was thick with black smoke as the souls of the brave fallen ascended to Valhalla.

SHEILD gathered the bodies of the Chitauri and burnt them, confiscating a few of the weapons and dismantling the mothership and carting it away for analysis. Slowly, they began to pack up the base too, eventually leaving Natasha alone in a large tent with a chair, and a bed, and the body of her lover.

And over those three days, Natasha went through all five stages of grief.

Denial.

Idiot. She was going to punch him so hard when he woke up. She knew he was getting Tony back for dying his green scarf pink. Ha ha, very funny, joke’s over now. So why wasn’t he waking up?

She knew there was a way to bring him back. She just had to reverse the spell. She was sure it wouldn’t be hard to convince someone from Asgard to preform it once she had found the right spell. She just needed to go to Asgard to do some research, but Thor was no help. Whenever she asked him about it he would either sigh and try to hug her or start crying again.

Anger.

If he wasn’t already dead, she would have killed him. How dare he leave her alone with his child! How dare he sacrifice his life for hers! The coward! He had no right, she was the Black Widow, she didn’t need some stupid god acting like a martyr. And now she had to raise some magical, alien baby! Loki was a selfish ass! She hated him! She hated him so damn much! The motherfucker left her and didn’t even have the balls to tell her he loved her! Who’s the mewling quim now! Asshole…

Bargaining.

She would have done anything for another moment. Just one more moment with him, just enough to tell him that she loved him. She wished she hadn’t been so stubborn, that he hadn’t been so stubborn. She wished her pride and fear of emotion hadn’t gotten in the way. She thought she’d had time. She had planned to let him realise she loved him on his own, to realise that he was worthy, and deserving of her love. And then, when he finally confessed his feelings, she would have told him she knew, she knew all along, and that she loves him too, she always has. Now she wishes she had told him just once, and she would give anything for him to have heard the words “I love you” out of her mouth.

Depression.

On the third day, Natasha Romanov finally broke down and cried. What started with one silent tear, soon turned into full blown bawling, complete with choking sobs and wet hiccups. Her friends gaped in shock when they saw her, mouths hanging open like cartoon characters. No one had ever seen the Black widow cry before, not even Clint. They gathered around her, but she could not be consoled.

Her heart was breaking, tearing in two inside her chest. Her insides were cold as ice and yet her head felt like it was on fire. To think she would never see those bright green eyes again. He would never look at her with a secret affection that he thought she couldn’t see. She’d never see his cheeky smirk, or the odd twitch of his lips when he tried to hide a true smile, or hear his laughter, free and unburdened. She would never again feel his arms around her, wrapping her in safety and warmth and love. Her chest felt hollow, like a Chitauri had blasted straight through it, leaving a gaping hole where her heart should be.

This is why she didn’t do emotions, it always hurt so much more when they left you. And god, it hurt. She felt the urge to rip out her own heart, just to stop the pain, even as Clint held her and she sobbed uncontrollably into his shoulder. She screamed as the waves of pain wracked her heart, fisting Clint’s shirt in her hands. She cried until she made herself sick, gasping down huge lungfuls of air to stop herself from throwing up. She hardly noticed Clint rocking her gently, rubbing soothing circles on her back. And had she been able to see through her tears, she would have noticed that there was not one dry eye to be seen amongst the mighty Avengers.

Acceptance.

Her sobbing quietened in the late afternoon, and she fell into a silent state of numbness. Her chest ached like a bullet wound, and she stared blankly at the wall, knowing that if she looked into his face, it would only set her off again.

“It is time.” A deep voice said. Thor. But she didn’t react, or acknowledge him.

Other people came, the last of the Asgardians. Fenris was there, his wet nose nudged the limp hand of his father, and then hers, but hers was just as lifeless. Frigga was there too, and it took her longer than it should have to realise the queen was holding her baby. She still hadn’t named her. She was a terrible mother already.

They covered Loki with a sheet, like they didn’t want to see him anymore, and they brought another body up beside him. The Avengers were there too, and she realised it was Clint and Steve helping her to stand. Pepper pulled her into a quick but tight hug, before releasing her with sad eyes. Odd, when had she arrived? Natasha didn’t remember anymore.

Suddenly she was spinning and swirling sickeningly fast, like a bad rollercoaster, brightly coloured lights dancing before her eyes. She was slammed back on her feet. Two pairs of arms caught her before she fell. She wasn’t sure whose they were. She didn’t care anymore.

They walked on bright lights, the sprawling city before them shone golden in the sunlight – it must have still been midday here. But Natasha’s dull eyes saw nothing.

She wasn’t sure how long they walked for, and she was sure a few people tried to talk to her, but eventually she ended up alone in a bedroom. It was beautiful, but she was too numb to appreciate it.

Soft, white sheets adorned the huge canopy bed. A sheer curtain billowed through the archway that opened onto the white, marble balcony. The thin shaft of sunlight that streamed in combined with the soft candlelight. Everything was so pure and white and it felt far too much like a honeymoon suite.

It didn’t suit Natasha’s black mood at all.

She crawled into the furthest corner of the bed, away from the light, away from everyone. She curled up into a ball, stewing in her pain. She wanted to go home, wanted to curl up in the bed that they had shared together, wanted to inhale his scent that still lingered on the sheets, wanted to wrap herself in his scent and never, ever wake up.

Tears slipped down her face again, and she buried her head in her knees, shoulders shaking as she tried to hold back the sobs. In her long, tortured life, nothing had hurt as much as this, not even losing Alexi. She hadn’t realised just how deeply she was in love with the insufferable, sarcastic, mischievous god.

She wished he had told her his plan, that he had given her the chance to say goodbye, that they could have spent one last night together.

She wished he could have seen his daughter before he died.

Eventually, Natasha cried herself into exhaustion, her eyelids becoming swollen and heavy, and closing of their own accord. Her slumber blocked out the pain for a little while, and so she gladly gave in to the darkness.

As she slept, the green gem around her neck glowed brightly.

.

∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

When Natasha awoke, it took her a moment to realise she was no longer in her bed.

In fact, she didn’t even think she was in the palace anymore, and that really jolted her back to her senses.

She shot to her feet, suddenly wide awake, and surveyed her surroundings with practiced eyes. It seemed like she was deep underground, a dark and damp cave. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light, but when they did, she realised she was standing on a ledge.

To her right, a vertical rockface climbed up into the darkness of the roof. She thought she heard the squeaking of bats high above. The ledge meandered around the corner, flat and wide enough for two people; a path.

To her left, the path dropped away sharply. Cautiously she edged closer, peering over the cliff.

It was a long drop.

At the bottom of the gorge, she could see a river, slowly moving. It was bright green in colour and glowing, illuminating the sheer walls of the canyon in a sickly, pale green. At first, Natasha assumed it was some kind of phosphorous contamination, but when she looked closer, she realised it wasn’t water at all.

It was a river of bodies.

Her eyes isolated the ghostly, green faces, staring up at her with empty eye sockets and wide open mouths. She gasped as fear froze her core, and stumbled away from the edge.

Her back pressed against the wall behind her, and she leant against it for a moment, breathing deeply and trying to keep a calm head.

She pulled away slightly when she realised the wall was wet. She went to wipe her hands on her pants but the sight of her red palms caught her eye.

The walls weren’t wet with water, but with blood.

Natasha shut her eyes tightly and suppressed the urge to scream, fear clogging in her veins and chocking her. She dared not look up.

She stumbled forward, desperate to get away, to get anywhere. Her heart beat wildly inside her chest as panic set in.

She wasn’t sure how far she had walked, fear driving her as she tried to calm her breathing and think straight.

Where exactly was she? Was she even still on Asgard? Who or what had brought her here, and where were they now? Was it some last command of Thanos? Or the Chitauri? But no, they had been defeated days ago. Other enemies of Loki perhaps? But the thought of Loki caused tears to well in her eyes again so she discarded that notion. Perhaps it was a trial, a test of some kind set by the Asgardians? She kept her mind on this train of thought, and away from whatever was floating around down in the crevasse beside her.

The path widened and curled around a corner, the eerie green light glowing a little brighter up ahead. She paused when she reached the corner and crouched down, cautiously poking her head around the side to survey the area.

She pulled her head back immediately when she saw she was not alone.

The path opened up to a large cavern, the rock wall circling around the area before meeting the cliff edge again on the other side. Though the cavern was well lit, with creepy green-flamed candles that hung on the walls, she still could not see the roof of the cave that stretched up above her. She could, however, see the way the walls glistened red, and she had to suppress the bile that welled in her throat.

And at the back of the room sat an ornate throne of silver and black, diamonds and emeralds encrusted into its head, the soft velvet looking slick in the candlelight. And upon it sat a girl.

Natasha swallowed down her fear and silently made to go back the way she had come. But before she could take a step, a voice echoed through the rocky space.

“Don’t run away. It’s been so long since I’ve had _live_ company.”

Caught out, Natasha shuddered at the sickly-sweetness of the voice. She steeled her nerves and put on her mask before stepping out into the light, not wanting to anger another potentially magical being.

The girl on the throne looked like she was barely in her teens, but Natasha knew how deceiving looks could be, especially in this place. With wary steps she moved closer, until she was in the centre of the alcove.

From there, she could see the girl’s features more clearly. She had dark eyes and pale, porcelain skin. Her hair, black as midnight, was long and curled down over one side of her face. She wore a dress with one long sleeve, and when she shifted, Natasha realised why half her body was covered.

The girl was half bone.

One side of her was perfect, flawless; the other half a mere skeleton. No flesh, no muscle, just white bone.

An icy finger of fear trailed down Natasha’s spine.

“Come closer, dear.” The girl beckoned with her normal hand. ”What is your name?”

Natasha moved before the throne, keeping her expression perfectly blank, determined not to show any of the fear that was coursing through her veins.

“Natasha Romanov.”

The corner of the girl’s lips curled upwards. “A pleasure, Lady Natasha. I am Lady Hela, Ruler of Hel.” She spread her arms wide, as if expecting applause.

Natasha was pretty sure her heart had just stopped. “I’m in Hell?”

The girl, Hela, nodded, gesturing to the gorge behind them. “Those are the souls I guard, neither honoured nor dishonoured.”

Natasha’s brain ticked over for a minute, before coming to a slow realisation. Her eyes locked on Hela, moving a little closer to gauge the honesty in her face.

“Is Loki here?”

Hela grinned and Natasha suppressed a shudder.

“He is, but he isn’t.”

Natasha frowned, the girl was more cryptic than the Trickster himself.

Delighting in Natasha’s confusion, Hela explained. “He was here but, he did not wish to pass peacefully into the afterlife, no matter what I said to him. He locked himself away.” She gestured to her right and a huge stone door appeared in the rock, strange runes etched into the arch. “In there.”

Natasha made towards the door, but Hela halted her.

“Ah, ah, ah.” She taunted, waggling a bony finger back and forth. “The only reason I let Loki in there is because he is an old friend, I never said I’d do the same for you.” Her lips twisted in a sly smile.

“An old friend?” How old was this girl?

Hela nodded slowly. “Yes, well. As you can see, my appearance is a little…disarming. Loki is the only one who ever came to visit me. It gets awfully lonely down here, y’know.” She trailed off, lost in some melancholy past, before snapping back to attention. “He taught me how to play Bones. Do you want to play?”

She leant forward in her seat, bright with excitement. Natasha wondered who would put a child in such a horrible position. Then again, she had been even younger when the Red Room had recruited her.

Her first instinct was to reject the girl’s offer, she was not here to play games with a mystical child. But then she reconsidered.

She could use this to her advantage.

“Alright.” She said slowly. “But, if I win, you have to let me through that door, agreed?”

“Oh, a wager! Excellent!” Hela clapped her hands together, a bright smile lighting up her face. “I accept your terms. However, if you lose, I get your soul.” A hint of menace tinted Hela’s playful tone.

Natasha considered this. If Hela had been taught by Loki, then she was probably pretty good. And Natasha didn’t even know what game they were playing yet. But, she felt like she had been sent here for a reason. This was her mission, and she never failed a mission.

“I accept.”

Hela grinned.

She clapped twice and a table and small chair appeared beside the throne. She gestured to the chair and Natasha sat, keeping a watchful eye over everything.

Hela produced two cups, white and smooth and shiny, and Natasha was pretty sure they weren’t ceramic.

“The aim of the game.” Hela instructed, a mischievous glint to her eye that reminded her far too much of Loki. “One die, five knuckles.”

Natasha glanced into her cup. Yep, definitely bones. Lucky she wasn’t squeamish.

Hela demonstrated, rattling the bones in her cup, before slamming it down on the table and revealing her roll. “The knuckles that land upright are worth four. The ones that land on their side are worth two.” She pointed to the ones she had rolled; three up, two down.

“The die determines the action. Roll an odd number, and you add that number to the sum of your knuckles. Roll an even number, and you must subtract it from the value of your knuckles. Highest number wins the hand.”

Hela caught her eye and grinned.

“Best out of five?”

Natasha nodded, her face betraying nothing of her nerves, though she supposed Hela could probably hear her heart thudding in her chest.

They shook their cups and rolled.

Natasha did the math. “Seventeen.”

“Twenty one.” Hela countered.

Natasha felt sweat gathering on her skin.

Another roll.

“Nineteen.”

“Eight.”

Hela scowled.

Rattle, rattle.

A bead of sweat trickled down the back of her neck.

“Six.”

“Fifteen.”

Natasha felt cold and clammy while Hela looked down at her triumphantly.

“Fourteen.”

“Ten.”

Hela slammed her cup down and Natasha watched her carefully.

They rolled again, and Natasha felt like her soul was already in the cup, rattling around with the bones.

“Twenty three!” Hela challenged, grinning from ear to ear.

Fear gripped Natasha’s insides as the blood rushed from her face. Dread made her hand heavy but she lifted her cup anyway.

“Twenty five.”

A perfect roll.

Relief rushed through her like a cool wave over a man on fire. Angrily, Hela scooped up the bones, clearing away the evidence of her failure.

She huffed a sigh. “Alright, alright, fine.”

Hela waved a hand and behind her the heavy doors creaked open.

Natasha scrambled from her chair, eyes locked on the darkness that apparently hid the God of Mischief. But as she passed by the petulant ruler, she paused.

“Thank you, Hela. Perhaps when I get Loki back, we could visit you together.”

The sulking child’s head shot up, eyes wide at her offer, and Natasha couldn’t help but smile.

“I’d like that.” Hela returned the smile shyly.

Natasha gave the room a once over, eyes coming to rest on her new friend once more, before she passed through the doors and into the darkness beyond.

 


	29. The Ninth Realm

Chapter 29. The Ninth Realm

 _I liked,_  
_Having hurt,_  
_So send the pain below,_  
_Where I need it._

_~ “Send the Pain Below”, Chevelle_

The doors slammed shut behind her with an echoing bang, and Natasha was plummeted into darkness.

All was silent.

In the distance, she saw a faint, flickering light. With slow, careful steps, she made her way forward, her hands outstretched, feeling her way through the pitch black.

As she drew closer, she saw the lights came from the walls, where something was moving.

Pictures lit up the walls like an old fashioned projector, and Natasha felt like she was in an aquarium. The colours were dull, but the images were sharp, and Natasha felt her heart jump into her throat when the first movie played out.

It took her a moment to realise that she was seeing Thor and Loki as children. Both had shorter hair, and huge, carefree smiles, none of the worries of the world that burdened the brothers now.

They chased each other around a tall, blooming tree, and Natasha guessed they couldn’t have been more than 8 years old.

Hesitantly, she reached out, Loki’s pure expression calling to her. As soon as her fingers made contact with the wall, sound assaulted her.

Giggling. Laughter. The shrill squeals of children playing.

“Got you! Now you’re the evil Frost Giant!” Loki called as he tagged Thor on the arm.

“Huuuurg!” Thor moaned holding out his arms in what Natasha assumed was an imitation of a Frost Giant, but looked to her more like a zombie.

“I’m gonna cook you in a stew and use your bones as toothpicks!” Thor growled, trying to make his unbroken voice deep and gravelly.

Natasha watched as they played, until a young girl with her blonde hair in a high ponytail joined the picture.

“Prince Thor!” She called, her eyes hopeful and her smile sweet. “I intend to press the boundaries of the Forbidden Woods, do you dare to join me?”

“My Lady Sif! It would be my greatest honour.” He bounded to her side and, with a grand flourish, took her hand and kissed it.

They left without a backward glance, leaving Loki alone.

Loki looked crushed, but then he scowled, kicking a rock and slumping against the tree.

The scene darkened and Natasha pulled away.

In the next scene Natasha came to, a young Loki opened the door to a lavish bedroom. The way he carefully looked around before entering suggested he was not meant to be there.

He snuck quietly into the ensuite, and from the beautifully crafted marble and gold vanity, he stole a golden razor. Quickly and very carefully he ran downstairs, finding an empty guest room on the lower levels.

Young Loki sat crossed legged in front of a full length mirror, eyeing the glinting razor in his hand. Looking up into the mirror, he stared at his shoulder length hair, black as raven feathers, black as the eternal winters of Jotunheim, the complete opposite of his perfect golden haired brother.

Loki gathered his courage, bringing the sharp razor to his hairline and taking a deep breath, steeling his resolve before shearing the first piece. As his raven locks fell to the ground, he didn’t seem to notice that salty tears streaked down his face to join them.

And when he pressed the razor too hard and broke the skin, Loki stared at the blood on his fingers as though he was surprised to see it was red.

She moved ahead to the next image, the sinking feeling in her stomach deepening.

The brothers were older, around twelve, and sat with Odin in a large study, books and papers and scrolls splayed across the table.

“Who are the twelve previous kings of Alfheim?”

Thor leant on the table, head pillowed by his arms, clearly uninterested in the history lesson Odin was giving.

“Ummm…Althidon…Halafarin?”

“No, idiot.” Loki interrupted, rolling his eyes.

“Althidon, Arkiem, Aerendyl, Beldroth, Delsaran, Elbereth, Erendriel, Faelar, Halafarin, Ilyndrathyl, Khuumal, Lathlaeril.”

Loki beamed proudly at his father, but Odin only frowned.

“Foolish boy! I did not ask you. Now you have ruined the answer for your brother.”

Loki’s face fell, crushed, and he buried his head in a book to hide the way his eyes watered.

Natasha pulled away, heart clenching in her chest.

It was clear that these were Loki’s memories, and not his pleasant ones. She moved on, and the more images she saw, the more surprised she was that Loki had not gone off the deep end sooner.

She smiled at the pranks the boys played together, and at the trouble they got themselves into.

She watched as a teenage Loki bared his heart to a golden-haired Sif, and was rejected. And she watched as Loki snuck into her room while she slept and turned her golden hair black.

She watched as Loki was dismissed, again and again, shoved to the side, forgotten.

She watched as a young Loki hid in a dark closet, and she heard a wrathful Odin raging from behind the door as he searched for his misbehaving son. She heard him yell that Loki was a coward, that he should own up to what he had done, and she heard him roar that cowards were no sons of Odin.

And as Odin left the room and his yelling grew faint, she watched as Loki took a silver blade from his belt and pressed it into the soft flesh of his forearm, concentrating on the pain in an attempt to stop the onslaught of tears.

And as the boys grew, the memories turned darker.

Thor flirted with a girl, and Loki wandered off into the forest with a roll of his eyes. A strange animal that looked like a cross between a bull and a dragon attacked, sinking its teeth into his shoulder and ripping its claws down his body. Natasha winced when Loki screamed in pain. He cried for his brother, but Thor never came, and she watched as Loki’s face twisted into a dark expression that chilled Natasha to her core.

Giving in to his rage, Loki killed the thing, and began to drag its body back, despite his wounds. He dropped the body at his brother’s feet and his smirk was dark and tainted as the girl screamed and ran off.

After that memory, he never seemed to cry again.

Short, dirty men held him down as one pierced his lips with a large needle and thick twine. Blood pooled in his mouth and dribbled out and down his chin. Loki looked up with pleading eyes as his brother watched on but did nothing.

Odin was furious, his rage all-encompassing. Guards dragged Loki out of the palace and into a public square. They stripped him to his waist and made the incisions in his back. This time Thor did object, shouting out his brother’s name and struggling against the guards as they held him back. But Odin’s word was final. They peeled back the skin, and one by one, they began to break his ribs.

Natasha was unable to watch the rest of that memory, her stomach churned violently as she struggled not to throw up. Tears blurred her vision and she rubbed at her eyes hastily.

She moved on, but each image was like a blow to the chest, her heart clenched painfully and her insides turned cold.

They chained Loki to a large boulder at the edge of a cave and left him there. The snake slithered on the roof above him. Venom flowed steadily, searing through skin and muscle and bone like acid. It ate away at his flesh until Natasha could see Loki’s heart beating inside his chest.

In between Loki’s screams, she could hear Thor telling him that Fenris had been taken away and Lydi’alaera had left Asgard. And every time the venom stopped for a brief moment, all she could hear was Loki’s whimpers and Thor softly muttering; “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

A huge, blue giant grabbed Loki’s arm, and his skin turned cerulean beneath its hand.

Loki yelled at Odin, who lay against the staircase.

“So, I’m no more than a stolen relic, locked up here until you might have use of me?”

“Why do you twist my words?”

“You could have told me what I was from the beginning, why didn’t you?”

“I wanted only to protect you from the truth.”

“What, because I…I’m the monster who parents tell their children about at night? It all makes sense now, why you coveted Thor all these years. Because no matter how much you claim to love me! You could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the throne of Asgard!”

Loki hung over an abyss, a dark, swirling blackness, holding on to Thor who was held up by Odin.

“I could have done it father!” Tears stung his eyes.

“No, Loki.”

Pain. Anguish. Hurt. Despair.

“Loki, no!” Thor’s desperation.

She watched as Loki let go, falling to what he thought would be his death, his release.

From there, it only got worse.

She watched as Loki slowly went insane, locked in sensory deprivation with only his own thoughts, tumbling through nothingness for an eternity.

She watched as Thanos found him, chained him up, beat him, broke him.

She watched as he welcomed their blows and their cruel taunting. He wanted to die. He endured the pain in the hope that they would finally kill him.

They broke his bones.

They pulled out his fingernails.

They pierced his eyes with needles.

They strung him up with broken shoulders.

They slit his stomach and played with the intestines that slithered out.

They cut off his fingers and sewed them on backwards, allowing them to heal that way before ripping them apart again.

They forced molten lava down his throat, and laughed as it burnt through skin and bone, leaving him half faceless and bleeding.

Natasha vomited on the floor.

She closed her eyes and ran, not able to bear seeing any more. It was too much, far too much for one person, man or god.

She ran blindly, hands covering her face from the horrors, until her foot caught on something and sent her sprawling across the rocks.

She lifted her head to see what had tripped her, hands and knees scraped and stinging. A dark ball sat in the centre of the path.

Then the ball started to move.

Natasha sat back on her haunches, heart racing and prepared to flee as the ball uncurled and stretched.

“Nat-tas-ha?” The voice was croaky, raw, broken and uncertain, but it was unmistakably his.

Tears pricked at her eyes before she had even moved.

“Loki!”

She sprung forward and flung herself at him, dropping to her knees before him. He was curled up, foetal position, and she lifted his head into her lap to stoke his hair.

“Are…are you…real?” He reached for her face, green eyes wide and lost.

She lowered her head, enabling him to caress her cheek, warm and solid.

“I’m real Loki, I’m here. I got you.”

She cradled his head, clutching him close as the tears streamed freely down her face. She kissed his hair, his cheek, his forehead, until his lips found hers. Their lips locked, she crushed his body to hers, unable to get close enough and fearing that any moment he would be ripped from her arms again.

He sat up, and she couldn’t hold back her sobs any longer. He drew her into his arms and she buried her face in his shoulder, comforted by the steady beat of his heart beneath her head.

“You came for me.” It was almost a question, as if he still didn’t believe she was really there.

“Of course I came, idiot, I love you!” She pulled back and smacked him in the chest, her tear-stained face angry and beautiful.

Loki stared at her, stunned, but then his lips twitched upwards, and he broke into the biggest grin Natasha had ever seen.

“I think you hit your head when you took that tumble.”

“Don’t be daft.”

She fell back into his embrace, content to stay there forever.

“You figured out the soul gem, then?”

She almost answered that she didn’t really know how she got here, but then something clicked.

“You planned this whole thing, didn’t you!”

She smacked him in the chest again, harder this time, but didn’t rise from his arms.

Loki shrugged, trying to fight a smirk but failing.

“Honestly, I wasn’t sure. But you are smart for a mortal. I had hope.”

“Idiot.” She muttered into his neck. “Idiot, idiot, idiot.”

His fingers curled under her chin, raising her head and forcing her watery blue eyes to look into his sparkling green ones.

“Worth it.” He whispered, scorching her soul with a look, and then bringing his lips tenderly to hers once more.

“Can you get us home?” Natasha asked when they eventually broke apart again. “There’s someone who wants to meet you.” A cheeky smirk spread across her face and it made Loki smile.

“Ah yes, I never did find out. Boy or girl?”

Natasha scoffed. “You missed the birth, you ass, now you have to suffer in suspense.”

He clutched his heart, making a wounded face, and Natasha fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“Best not keep everyone waiting, I suppose.” He grinned.

Gently, his fingertips skimmed over her collarbone, following the line of her necklace, and she shivered at his touch. He held the gem, its soft, green glow growing stronger in his palm.

He closed his eyes and began to murmur something in a language Natasha didn’t know. She closed her eyes too, and the ground fell away. She felt lighter than air, yet lost in the infinite, like a single snowflake in a storm. She felt like the only thing that kept her from floating away was Loki’s hand on hers, cool and strong, their fingers entwined.

And then all feeling was gone, and Natasha sank into unconsciousness.

 

 


	30. The Resurrection

Chapter 30. The Resurrection

 _I walked around my good intentions_  
_And found that there were none_  
_And if I don't make it,_  
_Know that I've loved you all along_

_~ “4am”, Our Lady Peace_

Natasha woke like a drowning person suddenly given oxygen. She rolled over, sucking in deep breaths, her head spinning wildly.

She was back in her bed, the pure white room now bathed in a fiery glow as the rising sun peeked over the horizon. She had slept half the day and all through the night.

Had it all been just a dream?

She had to find Loki’s body. She had to be sure.

Adrenalin coursed through her veins as she sprung from the bed and bolted down the hall. She raced through the palace of Asgard, no idea where she was going and not caring when she bumped into people, not caring that she was barefoot and half dressed in three-day-old clothing, and not caring that her flaming hair, which had grown long over the months, was matted to the side of her face.

She rounded a corner and smacked straight into something large and hard, knocking her to the floor, sprawled on her butt. She looked up into Thor’s concerned face, her surprise reflected in his expression.

She noticed his eyes were still red-rimmed and puffy, and his beard had grown scraggly and unkempt. Natasha wondered how much worse she must look.

“Thor.” She breathed, hesitating while her mind struggled to catch up, still in the dreamland with Loki where it seemed like everything would turn out rainbows and sunshine. But Natasha was all too aware that reality was a bitch; she almost didn’t want Thor to lead her to Loki’s still-dead corpse.

Swallowing hard, she pushed down the rising panic.

“Thor, where did they take him?”

Thor’s face seemed to crumble. “Lady Natasha, I do not know if that is such a wise decision. You should rest more, you look unwell.”

She fought her initial response to raise an eyebrow and ask if he’d looked in a mirror lately.

“Please.” She shook her head sadly, needing to convince him but not wanting to tell him her intentions and get his hopes up in case she was wrong.

“I just want to see him one last time.” She whipped out her puppy dog eyes and Thor stood no chance.

Thor sighed heavily, his expression falling. He looked as though he had aged a thousand years.

“This way. He and Father rest in the ante-chamber while the ship is prepared.”

As she followed Thor down the hallway, the scene of a Viking funeral flashed through her mind, from a movie long ago.

Thor led her into a gilded room, intricate arches held up the tall ceiling, creating nooks and crannies, shadows and light, and it was all made of gold.

A haze lay heavy in the air, the rich scent of burning incense almost suffocated her. Collections of beautiful flowers lined every available surface – large and small, tall and short, dark ones and bright ones and ones that seemed to glow.

In the corner, hanging by Loki’s head, was a bouquet that caught her eye. The flower was round and elegant, like a tulip, but drooped down from its stem, heavy with misery. The flowers were a bright, shimmering silver, but they glowed like moonlight, and when she moved closer to finger its petals, they were softer than a breeze.

“Lonibelias. They were Loki’s favourite.”              

Thor’s voice was softer than she’d ever heard it, and she knew if she looked back, she’d see the pain written on his face.

Gathering her courage, Natasha took a deep breath and looked down.

Loki lay silently before her on a golden table. He was fully dressed in his Asgardian armour, minus the helmet. His hair had been neatly brushed back the way he liked it; it had grown long over their months together, like hers, and it hung now over his shoulders, the silky ends brushing along his collarbone.

Round gold coins covered his eyes. Gently, she removed them, but his intense emerald gaze remained hidden to her.

Her heart leapt into her throat now as panic and despair set in. She laid a hand on his chest, waiting for it to rise and fall beneath her palm, to feel the beat of his heart, but there was nothing.

She waited. Her heart refusing to believe what her mind was telling her.

She heard Thor sniff and shift behind her, and somehow knew he was wiping away his tears.

Finally the one thought that had been circling round her head drove her to her knees as her legs gave out.

It had all been just a dream.

She laid her cheek on Loki’s still chest, her tears falling silently at first, but soon became sobs.

Never again would he hold her, never again would she feel his warm gaze when he thought she wasn’t looking. Never again would she feel his soft lips and gentle touch, or see his emerald eyes and feel them hollowing her soul. And she would never be able to tell him that she loved him.

The Black Widow cried, her heart tearing in two all over again.

She heard Thor’s footsteps behind her and felt his hand on her shoulder.

His other hand clasped hers as it lay on Loki’s chest. It was a lot smaller than she remembered, weak and trembling.

She heard Thor gasp.

“I’m sure I told you not to cry for me, my little spider.”

Natasha raised her head, a puzzled frown showing through her tears as her mind attempted to comprehend what her ears had heard.

She looked up into emerald eyes, half closed. A weak half-smile played at the corner of his mouth. The shallow rise and fall of his chest pressed against her face.

Natasha let out a strangled cry and threw her arms around him.

“I hate you.” She muttered into his shoulder, muffling her sobs. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.”

He chuckled weakly and held her up at arm’s length, gazing into her wet and blotchy face like it was the Mona Lisa.

“Come now, you should know better than to lie to the God of Lies.”

“Asshole.” She muttered, crossing her arms over her chest like a child.

Thor came closer, tears still streaming steadily down his face but his smile brighter than she’d ever seen it, and she let the brothers have their moment.

Loki glanced around, taking in the room.

“You were about to burn me, weren’t you?”

Thor’s smile disappeared faster than freshly cooked pop-tarts, a look of horror replacing it.

“But! I-I…we thought…you…” Loki chuckled as Thor stuttered.

“Over a thousand years, Thor, and still you have no faith in me.”

Thor laughed, wiping the tears from his face as he helped Loki to sit up.

“I am just glad to have you back, brother.”

Loki’s smile fell a little as his eyes rested on the body of his father, on the table beside his.

“Father.”

Thor glanced over his shoulder, following Loki’s gaze, and his face fell also.

“I’m sorry, Loki.”

But Loki shook his head. “Do not be sorry. Not for me. You were his son. He gave his life to save you.”

Thor chose only to shake his head at that comment, saving the argument for another day. As it was, the Crown Prince was grinning like an idiot. Natasha actually though his face might spontaneously combust.

“Come! Our dear friends will be so overjoyed to see you again. And our mother! We shall throw the most grandest of feasts Asgard has ever seen!”

Loki hesitated, and Thor took that as his cue to pull his brother to his feet before he could protest.

But as Thor tugged on his arm, Loki’s feet failed to support him; his legs gave way and Thor barely caught his brother before he hit the ground.

Natasha was at his side in an instant, though he waved off their concern.

“I am fine. My body has just not yet recovered from the strain of channelling such powerful magic.” Though the fact that he allowed Thor to wrap his arm around his waist and help him forward suggested otherwise.

Thor led his brother through the halls, his pace slow and his arm still wrapped cautiously around Loki. Natasha followed closely behind, not wanting to let the dark-haired god out of her sight for quite some time. As they reached the tall, golden door, Loki straightened out of his brother’s grasp, drawing himself to his full height, even though Natasha noticed his face pale with the strain.

Tony was the first to look up when Thor pushed open the heavy doors. The golden goblet he held clattered across the marble floor, staining it red with wine.

“Oh. My. God.”

There was a weird, shocked silence for a moment as everyone in the room turned as one towards the door and froze.

And then, suddenly, Stark was hurling across the room and latching onto the weary god like a koala. Had Thor not been supporting his brother, Stark would have tackled Loki to the ground.

And all at once, everyone began to speak, gathering around with bewildered expressions.

“Holy crap…”

“You’re alive!”

“Yes! I called it! Barton you owe me fifty bucks.”

“Dammit.”

“Oh my god…”

“How…”

Natasha read the fear and shock and confusion in Loki’s face as the Avengers crowded too close. Loki tried to back away, but was no-where near fast enough in his current state to escape the oncoming group hug.

Natasha bit her lip to suppress her laughter at the panic on Loki’s face as he was crushed under a pile of bodies. Natasha let him suffer for a moment before fending off Steve, Bruce, Jane, and Tony and Pepper, while Thor left quietly, grinning ecstatically, to notify their mother. Clint stood back, arms folded, but she could see him trying not to smile.

Loki shot her a glare when she ushered him to the couch, but she rolled her eyes and pushed him down into the cushy seat anyway.

He carried himself well in front of the others, but she could see the exhaustion in his eyes.

“So, are you a zombie now or what?”

“Tony.” Pepper admonished, scowling at the billionaire.

Loki merely smirked, spreading his hands in a humble gesture. “I assure you, I am perfectly intact and have no desire to feast on your flesh.” It had been a horrible idea for Stark to let the Asgardian brothers watch 28 Days Later, it had taken a video call from a very annoyed Fury to convince Thor that the undead weren’t real and that he didn’t have to go on a zombie-hunting rampage through the city to save mankind.

“So, magic then. That’s the only explanation. You were dead. I checked you myself.” Bruce muttered softly.

Loki nodded. “Indeed, I was dead. But I was saved by a certain spider.” He glanced up at her, green eyes dancing with humour as he offered Natasha his hand. She took it and sat herself on the arm of the lounge by his side, trying to hide her soft smile and failing.

The Avengers knew of her feelings for the Trickster god, there was no point in hiding them anymore. The only one she had to convince now was Loki himself.

At the prompting of the others, Natasha proceeded to explain how she met the Queen of the Dead and won Loki’s freedom. She left out the part about the tunnel of horrific memories, and Loki gave her a knowing glance.

Frigga entered the room, Natasha and Loki’s child asleep in her arms.

Natasha felt a stab of guilt, followed by a huge surge of gratitude towards the queen, who, despite her own grief, had taken care of the child while Natasha had broken down. She would have to find a way to thank her later.

“Oh, my son!” Frigga breathed, tears already forming in her eyes.

“Mother.” Loki stood, and Frigga carefully handed her granddaughter to Natasha before throwing her arms around her son.

“We thought we had lost you for good this time.”

Hesitantly, Loki hugged her back, a little bewildered at all the positive attention he was receiving. When they pulled apart, Loki’s gaze fell on the sleeping babe in Natasha’s arms, and a slow smile crawled across his face.

He sat back down by her side, his height enabling him to rest his chin on her shoulder. His fingers traced down her arm, coming to rest over her hand that cupped the child, and wrapping them both in his embrace.

“I haven’t named her yet.” She murmured, and the deep rumble of his laughter reverberated through her chest.

“Do you have any in mind?”

His breath tickled her neck and sent a shiver down her spine.

“You should choose something appropriate. I suppose she’ll be a princess, after all.”

Loki thought for a moment, pressing his lips to her neck absently.

“Though she may live here, she will not be of Asgard, nor will she truly be of Midgard. I do not wish to mislead her the way I was.”

“No.” Natasha murmured quietly as the child’s eyes opened and her tiny fists pressed sleepily against her face.

“She’ll be a part of both.”

For a long moment, Loki was silent, staring at the tiny babe that gurgled in Natasha’s arms.

“Katarina.” He said finally, “It means pure.”

“Katarina,” Natasha repeated, testing the name on her tongue, “I like it.” The corner of her mouth flicked upward.

“Where I come from, there was a saint named Tatyana. She was strong, and steadfast, and held faith when others would have given in to hopelessness.” She studied the babe in her arms as her tiny face scrunched up in a yawn, and a fierce love bubbled up in her chest. A mother’s love.

“Katarina Tatyana Romanova Lokid _ó_ ttir.”

Loki entwined his fingers in hers, and for the first time in her life, Natasha felt a strange feeling of wholeness, of peace, settle over her like a wave, and she hoped Loki felt it too.

 


	31. The Last Ship

Chapter 31. The Last Ship

  
_And even if you chose to lock yourself away_  
 _If I listen close, I can almost hear you say_  
 _Once I was real, Once I was somebody's child_  
 _Once I could feel, Some feeling once in a while_  
 _Once I was here, Once I was somebody's friend_  
 _Once I appear, I will be real once again_

_~ “Once I was Real”, Caleb Kane_

 

Loki’s joyful reunion with the Avengers was short and bittersweet, for the afternoon quickly turned sorrowful and dark.

Loki spent a few lingering moments with Natasha and their child, before he was called away to be with his family as the funeral rites began.

The Avengers watched on as Loki and Thor shouldered their father’s body with the help of Frandal and Hogun. The All-Father lay on a wide board, wrapped in rich linen and silk, shining jewels and golden trinkets strewn about him and his fingers and neck heavy with jewellery. Gungnir lay by his side.

The brothers carried their farther solemnly from the palace and through the main street where the people had gathered. The crowd lined the cobblestones, and many threw flowers upon their fallen king, or ran forth to place gold or precious heirlooms at his side.

Frigga followed the procession, accompanied by a woman dressed all in white. Behind them, a lone soldier blew his horn, the sound deep and echoing over the melancholy lands.

The Avengers blended with the people as they joined the parade, making their way down to the shoreline.

An enormous longboat was anchored in the shallow waters, the stern shaped like a dragon’s head. The wood was polished and smooth, the edges lined with gold, and when the sail was released, the golden thread woven into it glittered in the light of the setting sun.

The woman in white, the Angel of Death they had called her, spoke in an old Nordic language as the brothers carried the King of the Gods onto the boat and set him down on the pyre.

The Angel of Death held her palm over Odin’s body and began to chant. A blue mist descended down from her hand and fell over Odin like a cloud.

When she was finished, Thor stepped forward and placed a kiss on his father’s cheek. Loki then moved forward and did the same on the other cheek. Natasha fought the urge to go to him; she knew now, more than ever, that Loki would want to appear strong for his people.

Frigga then pressed a kiss to her husband’s forehead, her own cheeks wet with her tears.

They returned to shore and horns were sounded as the sails were released. Loki and Thor were handed bows as the ship drifted across the still waters towards the setting sun. The arrows were set aflame and the brothers aimed high into the air, releasing as one to send their father on his final journey.

Their two arrows were joined by a hundred more from the Guard of Honour, and the ship caught quickly, flames licking over the sides and devouring everything within. As the flames burned brighter than the setting sun, and the thick pillar of black smoke spiralled up towards the darkening sky, the crowd of mourners raised their voices and began to sing.

It was a low melody, like chanting, and though Natasha couldn’t understand the words, she could feel the power of their song, the raw emotion, and the haunting beauty. Odin may not have been the best father at times, but she could tell by the faces around her that he had been a beloved king.

.

∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

As the twin moons rose up into the galaxy-filled sky, one by one the people began to leave. It was silent but for the gentle lapping of waves against the shore; no one said a word. Even Tony kept his mouth shut, sensing the heavy mood of the Asgardian people.

The villagers slowly returned to their homes, followed by the nobility heading back to the palace. When there were few other than the Avengers and the Warriors Three left, Natasha stepped forward and gently slipped her hand into Loki’s the way she had been wanting to all afternoon. His grip tightened for a split second, but he made no other indication that he even felt her gesture. He merely kept staring straight ahead at the burning ship as it drifted further away into the unknown waters.

Loki only moved when Thor laid a hand on his shoulder and began to steer him back towards the palace.

Tony shot her a look as they followed the grieving family back through the paved streets, and she knew she wasn’t the only one who was worried about how Loki would handle this.

Loki felt numb.

He didn’t even remember walking back to the palace.

Loki forced himself out of his stupor when they reached the Great Hall and were bombarded with mourners offering their condolences. Their king was gone, and the people now looked to their Princes for leadership.

So Loki put on his mask once more.

The _sjaund_ was already in motion, plates of food covered the tables and barrels of Asgard’s finest ale were rolled out. Thor shoved a goblet into his hand and Loki downed it without even flinching. He savoured the burn the liquid left in his throat.

Toasts were made, and each time Loki found a fresh cup in his hand. After the fifth toast, he thought it best to cut the mortals off. Asgardian ale was far stronger than Midgardian beverages.

Amora approached him; he had not seen her since the battle had begun.

“My Prince.” She bowed low. “My sincerest condolences.”

Natasha watched from the corner of her eye as Loki inclined his head in acknowledgement.

Amora stepped closer, her usual green was replaced with black for the day. She smelt like lilacs.

“Loki, we have known each other a long time,” she laid her hand on his arm in an intimate gesture, “if you ever need me…” She did not finish the sentence but Loki understood that it was meant both as a lover and as a friend, and thanked her all the same.

People came to him, spoke about his father like they had been his childhood friend, patted him on the back, and told him they were sorry for his loss. And their touch burned like fire.

None of them had known Odin, just as none of them knew him, and their falseness burned in his chest until he couldn’t help the dark thoughts that flickered like wildfire through his mind. His anger consumed him, festering away at his heart.

Natasha’s hand brushed against his. A subtle but deliberate move. Letting him know that she understood, that she cared, and that she was right by his side.

Loki focused on Natasha, on the way her vibrant hair fell in perfect curls over her shoulder, the way her face lit up when she smiled, the way her blue eyes saw through him. He helped her navigate her way through the food being offered, snagging her the best dishes and steering clear of the more flamboyant delicacies, though he barely touched the food himself. But he watched her as she moved and ate and conversed, and Loki felt his anger slipping away, and for the first time, he let it.

Recounts of Odin’s heroic deeds and fond memories were told late into the night, and became more boldly embellished as the ale flowed steadily. Thor’s drink sloshed over the side of his cup and almost drowned Lady Jane as he demonstrated the size of the boar Odin had once caught.

Frigga was the first to excuse herself, and it pained Loki to see the exhaustion in her eyes and the sorrow that lined her face. Loki and Thor both offered to walk her to her chambers as she stood, but she declined.

She touched his shoulder as she passed and he reached up to give her hand a gentle squeeze, meeting her gaze with a questioning look. Frigga gave him the tiniest of smiles, and Loki knew she would be alright. His mother was far tougher than she looked, after all.

Thor slipped away as Volstagg enraptured everyone with a story of giants and dwarves, and Loki followed him.

He found his brother out on the balcony, overlooking the city as the tiny lights glittered below. Above, the galaxies shone in the light of the twin moons, bright swirls of colour against the black sky.

“Please don’t cry on me, I had not thought to bring tissues.” Loki teased as he approached. Thor gave a soft chuckle, and they both fell silent for a moment, gazing out into the darkness side by side.

Thor’s eyes shone wetly in the starlight, and Loki pretended not to notice.

“I never thought this day would come.”

Loki considered this. “Yes you did. You just didn’t want it to.”

Thor shook his head. “It wasn’t his time. It shouldn’t have been him.”

‘It should have been you.’ His brother’s voice continued in Loki’s head. Loki dropped his gaze, unable to meet Thor’s eye as the guilt bubbled up inside him.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered to the marble railing, missing the bewildered look Thor gave him.

“For what?”

Loki looked out at the twinkling lights of the citadel, each light representing a life, a family, his people. He thought of the people in the hall behind him, those who had risked their lives to fight his enemy, and those who had given their lives to defeat him.

“For everything, Thor. I knew my plan was risky, but I did not think… I should have rid the realms of Thanos sooner. I should have destroyed him before… before I even stepped foot on Midgard. If I had been stronger, if I hadn’t been so, so…” But his words were cut off as Thor wrapped him in a bear hug, crushing his ribs and squeezing the air from his lungs.

“Thor…” He gasped, “let…go”

Thor loosened his hold and Loki sucked in a breath. He shot his brother a glare, but his gaze softened when he saw a tear stain Thor’s cheek.

Thor held him at arm’s length. “Loki, it astounds me that you are both the most brilliant person I know, and the most foolish.” Loki cocked an eyebrow at that but didn’t interrupt. It was clear his brother was trying to be deep and meaningful.

“There has been bad blood between us for too long, and I know we have had our quarrels, but I need you to believe me when I tell you that this was not your fault. You are not the villain in this story. You sacrificed yourself to save not just me, or our friends, or even Midgard, but all the Nine Realms. You are the hero, Loki.”

Loki turned away from his brother’s pleading eyes. He wanted to believe Thor, but it went against everything he was, everything he had taught himself to be.

He was _always_ the villain, in _every_ story.

“Do you remember the first time we saw each other again after your fall from Asgard?” Thor asked, breaking Loki from the hold of his darkening thoughts.

“Aye.” Loki nodded. “One does not soon forget the mighty Thor and the infallible Ironman smashing each other through trees.” Thor gave a grunt and matched Loki’s smirk.

“I will agree that while my banishment on Midgard may have taught me humility, it did nothing to cool my temper. I was rash and quick to act, as I have always been. I was angry, and I let my anger dictate my actions. But all I wanted was to bring you home where we could be brothers again.”

Loki nodded. He had been pushing Thor away for a very long time.

“That day, I said you had a vendetta against me for your imagined slights. I was naïve, I didn’t know… I couldn’t have imagined what you…”

“Thor, stop.” Loki shook his head. “This is not your burden to bear.”

Thor looked down at his hands, trying to hide his watering eyes from his brother.

“I am the eldest. You are _my_ little brother… I was supposed to protect you.”

Thor’s voice was small and Loki’s heart constricted in his chest.

Loki reached out and wrapped a hand around Thor’s shoulder. A small gesture, but one that held a lot of meaning for them both.

“It’s alright.” Loki murmured, “Thor, it’s alright.” Thor pulled him close, and for the first time since they were children, Loki hugged his brother back. “I am home, now.”

They stood there for a brief moment, and as Loki concentrated on nothing but his brother’s warmth and the beating of his own heart, he felt all the anger and rage and bitterness that had been festering inside him for years bleed away, like water through the cracks.

“Be it by blood or no, we are brothers.” Loki echoed the words Thor had spoken before the battle. Thor pulled back to meet his brother’s gaze, a lopsided smile cracking his face.

“Never doubt that I love you.” Thor continued, repeating Loki’s own words prior to Thor’s coronation.

Loki smirked.

“That mortal woman really has tuned you soft.”

Thor punched him in the shoulder.

.

∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Loki retired from the feast when the night became the early hours of the morning. The _sjaund_ would continue for another two days, but right now Loki was tired of it all.

He pushed open the door of his bedroom, but did not enter.

A few candles cast a soft light across the room. His bed was draped in the same green and gold sheets he had grown up in. The walls were lined with books, each of which he had read more than once. In the far corner stood a massive oak desk, covered with potions and scrolls and tomes of magic.

He had not spent the night in this room since he had recovered from his father’s last punishment. How he had hated his father then, how betrayed he had felt, how abandoned, rejected, unwanted. For the longest time, the only emotion Loki had allowed himself to feel was hatred for the man who had lied and betrayed him. And now…

“Are you actually going to sleep tonight or are you just going to stand there forever?”

He turned at her voice. She was still the only person who could sneak up on him.

“Did your mother never teach you it was rude to stalk a prince?” A smirk crawled across his face but Natasha merely raised an eyebrow.

“Prince Loki.” She curtsied with all the sarcasm she could muster. He moved away from the door, meeting her as she raised her head.

He caught her chin in his fingertips and her own smirk fell from her face as she saw the desolation his eyes tried to hide. The atmosphere was tense with their silence for a moment, and her skin seemed to spark with it.

“How is Katarina?” Loki rumbled, breaking the moment and giving her back her personal space.

“She’s sleeping.” She murmured, “Would you like to see her?” She didn’t wait for an answer, knowing Loki would not admit such a thing. Gently she took his hand, leading him away from his childhood bedroom and the painful memories of the past.

Loki followed her into the large guestroom she had been allocated. The huge, white bed still had a rumple in the bedsheets where she had curled up and wept. Across the room, a warm fire crackled in the hearth. Fenris was curled around the legs of one of the plush armchairs, his tail flicking back and forth slowly. A beautifully carved oak crib stood in the corner, Katarina sleeping soundly in the glow of the fire.

Natasha gestured to the crib, but stood back, not wanting to push Loki. Hesitantly, he moved forward, slowly, until he was able to peer into the crib. Natasha silently stood behind him.

“She’s a beautiful child, Natasha.” He commented softly.

“Our child.” She corrected, gently sliding her hand along his arm. She noted with great satisfaction that Loki did not flinch away from her touch.

He turned to face her, and Natasha was stunned by his beauty and the emotion she could read in his eyes. The firelight flickered across his face, shadowing his features in a soft glow, his eyes twinkled in the light as they bore into hers. Natasha felt her heart stutter in her chest and her breath catch in her throat.

Natasha’s lips parted. There were so many things she needed to say, so many things that he needed to hear. Her life was a mess, and now that everything was over, she didn’t even know where to start to pick up the pieces. She had no idea where she stood in Loki’s mind, no idea what he was thinking, and that scared her more than anything.

But all tumultuous thought flew from her head when Loki leaned down and kissed her.

His lips were soft against hers, gentle at first, as if frightened she would push him away. But she responded eagerly, and Loki’s fingers trailed lightly over her hips and up her sides, sending goosebumps crawling over her skin. One hand tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck, and her own fingers traced the contours of his chest as their tongues danced.

 _‘I’ll just leave then, shall I?’_ They hurriedly broke apart at the voice in their heads. Fenris’ jaws curled upward in a would-be smirk as the giant wolf slunk out the door. “Apologies, Fenris.” Loki called out, grinning wickedly.

“Well, seeing as how he’s out of the way…” Loki leered down at her, grabbing her hips and snapping them to his. She let out a gasp at the hard contact, and then a soft moan as Loki bent to bite and suck at her neck.

“Mmm, stop that!” She playfully slapped his hand away as it crept upwards to cup her breast. “That’s what got us into this mess in the first place.” She took a step back, putting distance between them to try and calm her racing heart and resist the urge to tear all his clothes off.

“True.” He murmured, glancing back to Katarina’s sleeping form.

Natasha sat on the arm of the chair. She wasn’t used to feeling so unsure of herself. “What happens now?” She asked, afraid of the answer.

Loki turned back to face her, his head tilting to the side slightly as he considered her question. “What do you want to happen?”

Natasha’s eyebrow twitched. “That’s not what I asked.”

He approached her again, parting her knees to nestle himself between them. His expression was serious but she could see the glimmer of mischief that hid behind it. “Right now, I want to take you to bed.” His hands trailed up from her knees to her hips, thumbs caressing the insides of her thighs and causing her to inhale sharply.

“But, apparently, that’s not what you want.” His hands dragged back down to her knees again.

Natasha pursed her lips, knowing that he knew how much he was teasing her.

She reeled in her wild hormones with great effort, needing to tell him that this was no game or mission anymore, needing to make sure he believed her.

“Loki, what I said, back when I found you in that cave, I-“

“Don’t.” Loki cut her off, shaking his head and suddenly refusing to meet her eyes. “Don’t say it. Just give me this one night. Please.”

Natasha hid her surprise. She didn’t think Loki had ever pleaded for anything. She nodded; he was right, there would be time to talk about all that later. Right now, he needed her, and she needed him.

She reached down to grab his hands, tugging them back up her thighs to rest on her hips. Looking up, she met his gaze. His face was open, his mask gone, his emerald eyes seemed to be asking permission – nothing like the Loki that had popped into her bedroom almost a year ago.

Natasha wrapped her legs around his, hooking her ankles together and pulling him closer. Loki’s mouth claimed hers again, hands snaking around to tug on the laces that held up her nightgown. The gown slipped down her shoulders, revealing the tops of her breasts, and Loki yanked her to him, eliciting a moan from her as she felt the hard planes of his body flush against her skin through the thin cloth. His hands roamed down over her backside, squeezing until she gasped, before lifting her effortlessly from the seat and walking her to the bed.

They fell into bed together, her hands instantly reaching for his clothes, fumbling with the clips and buckles. He pulled her gown down further, exposing her breasts to his cool tongue. His fingers trailed up her thighs, dancing teasingly along the edge of her panties, causing her to shiver and moan. She whimpered as he bit down on a nipple.

Natasha gave up on trying to get under his vest, growling in frustration. “Clothes off.” She demanded. Loki grinned like a predator. “You first, darling.” Natasha rose up onto her knees and happily stripped for him, pulling the nightgown over her head.

Loki admired her naked body unabashedly, tongue darting out to wet his lips, and his hungry gaze sent a thrill up Natasha’s spine. In the blink of an eye, his coat and shirt vanished, leaving him only in tight leather pants which did nothing to calm the ache between her legs. The firelight played across his skin, casting him in light and shadow, and her eyes hungrily followed the definition of his chest and abdomen, hidden power rippling in the muscles under his skin.

Hiding a smirk, Natasha slid off the bed and dropped to her knees. Loki raised an eyebrow at her. “Allow me to pleasure you, my Prince.”

Loki chuckled, but joined her on the floor, standing haughtily before her. She ran her hands up his muscled legs, sliding the tips of her fingers into the waistband of his pants. Locking her gaze with his, she drew the end of the lace that held his pants together into her mouth and pulled. The knot slid undone and Loki hummed in appreciation as his cock sprang free and into her awaiting mouth.

Natasha ran her tongue expertly up and down the underside and then sucked hard, smiling to herself when she heard him grunt. His hands fell into her hair, urging her to go a little deeper. His hips stuttered forward and he hit the back of her throat – she had forgotten how big he was. She swallowed around him and he moaned.

“Natasha, get on the bed so I can fuck you. Now.” He stared down at her as a lion would a gazelle, and her insides clenched at hearing him use such a human expression.

Standing, she slid back onto the bed, watching as he followed her. Slowly, teasingly, he ran his hands up her legs, relishing the feel of her warm skin. His fingers slid under the lace of her panties, and he watched her expression as he pulled them down. Her arousal hit him like a wave of aphrodisiac, and his cock ached with how badly he wanted to take her.

“Turn over.” He almost growled, the husk of his voice sending shivers through her groin. She rolled onto her stomach, the sensation of his fingers on her skin heightened now that she could no longer see him. Anticipation built in her core as she felt his hands run up the back of her thighs and over her ass, pulling her hips upwards and back towards him. She gave a tiny moan when she felt his length slid between her folds, already slick with lust.

His tongue ran over her ass, cool and wet, before delving between her legs, making her moan loudly as he licked and sucked at her clit. She gasped as he ran his tongue through her folds and between her cheeks, circling her hole and setting nerve endings that she didn’t know she had on fire.

She felt a loss as he pulled away, and in the next second, he slammed into her, forcing her to bite down on the bedsheets to stifle her scream. He filled her so completely, leaving no room for anything else, for anyone else.

“Gods, Natasha. Do you know how good you feel? How tight you are?” She gasped as he began to move inside her, long, languid strokes slowly driving her insane. His fingers climbed up her sides, mapping the flat planes of her stomach and sliding his hands over her breasts. He urged her back towards him, arching her spine and pushing her breasts further into his hands. One hand fisted in her hair, jerking her head back with a sharp tug and exposing her neck to his mouth.

Natasha cried out as he repeatedly snapped his hips up into her and left bite marks down her neck, growling in her ear when she reached back and tugged on his hair. Eyes closed, she moaned with abandon, lost in the pleasure as he stretched her, filled her, made her whole. Loki chuckled in her ear. “Hush now, little spider, you’ll wake Katarina. You don’t want me to gag you again, do you?”

He nipped at the skin of her throat and she let out a low whine as he picked up his pace. “Fuck, Loki. Oh fuck. There, yes.” He slammed into her, hitting that perfect spot over and over. Suddenly a second Loki appeared in front of her, grinning up at her wickedly, bare chest gleaming in the firelight and tight ass clad in leather.

Natasha barely had time to register what had happened before the second Loki’s mouth was on her, nipping and sucking on her flesh, tongue swirling around her clit. Within a second she came undone in Loki’s arms, exploding, throbbing, shuddering. She heard his low, throaty growl behind her as he came with her, riding out both their orgasms in a rutting, passionate mess.

They fell forward together, boneless in the aftermath, his arms still wrapped around her middle. She felt his lips dance along her spine as she struggled to get her breath back, the feeling of pins and needles crawling across her skin dissipating as she came down from her high.

He rolled off her and to the side, tucking himself back into his pants and laying flat out across the soft bedding. She rolled onto her side to face him, her eyes instantly drawn to the V of muscle that disappeared into leather pants. His chest was covered in a light sheen of sweat, abdominal muscles flexing and contracting each time he breathed out. He really was a god.

“Wow,” she huffed, still breathless, “that’s a neat trick.”

Loki laughed, full-bodied and carefree, and Natasha had never heard anything so beautiful. “You think you can handle two of me?” Acting coy, she bit down on her full bottom lip, gazing up at him through hooded eyes. “I’d like to try.”

Smirking, he rolled on top of her, leaning up on his elbows and caging her head with his arms. He leant down and claimed her mouth again, kissing her slowly, hungrily.

He took her multiple times that night, his stamina tenfold that of any mortal. And as the dawn broke, she fell into an exhausted sleep, comforted by the arms wrapped around her.

 


	32. The Release

Chapter 32. The Release

_You are my sweetest downfall_   
_I loved you first, I loved you first_   
_Beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth_

_~ “Samson”, Regina Spektor_

When Natasha awoke around midday, Loki wasn’t there. The sunlight streamed in through the curtains, warming the room. She rubbed at her eyes, disorientated for a second by the unfamiliar surroundings. Natasha kicked off the covers and rolled out of bed to check on Katarina, wondering why the baby hadn’t woken her earlier with cries to be fed.

But Katarina wasn’t in her cot.

Natasha quickly donned the dress Frigga had given her yesterday, icy claws of unease settling in her chest. She wandered from room to room, her footsteps hurried but her expression schooled, even though she felt panic rising with each empty room. She was almost at the point of completely freaking out when she heard it.

The squeal of a child’s laughter.

She hurried to where the sound had come from, rounding a corner and poking her head around a tall oak door.

There, in the centre of a dusty old room filled with knickknacks and books, sat Loki, cross-legged on the floor surrounded by children’s toys, Katarina gurgling happily in his arms as he tickled the child’s belly with a soft toy.

Natasha’s grin almost broke her face. Laughter bubbled up and escaped her lips, alerting Loki to her presence. His head snapped up, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, and it only made her giggle more. A cool smirk slid onto his face when he realised it was only her.

“Am I amusing you in some way, Miss Romanov?”

“The Mighty Loki, Babysitter Extraordinaire.” She teased, her smirk matching his as she leant up against the doorframe.

Loki gave a one-armed shrug, gazing back down at the little bundle in his arms, cocooned in a soft blanket. “I thought you could use the rest.” He wrinkled his nose. “You can have her back now though, I believe she requires…maintenance.” He held the child up and away from him, like the opening scene of ‘The Lion King’, and Natasha laughed.

She took Katarina from him, scrunching up her own nose at the smell. “I’m surprised she’s not hungry.”

Loki rose gracefully, brushing imaginary dust from his clothes. “I’ve had the nursemaid feed her already. I shall have her called to change her.”

Natasha felt like she should protest having someone else look after her newborn child, but then conceded. She had no idea what she was doing, and she should accept the help while it was available.

Loki left for a moment, returning with a pretty young woman in tow, her blonde hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. The woman held out her arms for the baby, cooing softly in Old Norse. Natasha hesitated, before handing Katarina over reluctantly, looking to Loki for assurance but receiving none; he would not meet her eyes.

The woman jabbered away in the foreign language, motioning for Natasha to follow her. When Natasha didn’t immediately comply the woman grabbed her wrist, patting the back of her hand in a rather motherly way, and tugging her along. Loki held the door open for them and she shot him a look of utter confusion.

“Miss Romanov.” He inclined his head in farewell but said nothing more, and Natasha was even more confused. He hadn’t called her that in a long time, not since they had become… compromised. His formality baffled her, he seemed almost detached, and Natasha wondered what could have happened since last night to cause his sudden indifference. Natasha shook her head, unsure if she would ever understand what the God of Mischief was thinking.

.

∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Natasha notices Loki is slowly distancing himself. He continues to address her as ‘Miss Romanov’, engaging her in polite conversation as if they were mere acquaintances. He did not visit her again at night either, preferring, she supposed, to sleep in his own bed. And though Natasha would never admit it, she was a little hurt by Loki’s sudden coldness. Just when she thought she had been getting somewhere with him too.

Natasha decided to give him his space, but she wasn’t a patient person, never has been, and so after two days of Emotionless Loki, she decided ‘ _fuck it’_ and went to demand to know what in the hell was wrong with him.

It was late but she banged on the door anyway, thinking if she woke him up, then that was just extra points for her. He opened the door wearing nothing but soft, black cotton pants, barely hanging on to his hips, and Natasha struggled to remember why she had come here. She shook her head, clearing it of indecent thoughts, and gathered her anger again.

“Okay, what the hell is your problem?” She hissed, a scowl etched onto her face. Loki’s eyebrows rose. “I beg your pardon, I do not understand.”

She swept into the room, not waiting for him to invite her in. “No lies this time Loki.” She stared him down, arms crossed over her chest, her expression stern. “You’ve been avoiding me, acting like we don’t even know each other. You’ve been isolating yourself and I can’t see any reason for it, so I want to know why.”

Loki raised an eyebrow, but this time, it was not in amusement. His gaze was almost derisive. “You can’t see any reason? Perhaps the reason is simply that you hold no use for me any longer. Perhaps I have grown tired of your mortality, knowing that your life is nothing more than the blink of an eye to me. Perhaps I have simply grown bored of your lies and falsehoods.”

She snorted. “Look who’s talking.”

He bristled, anger breaking through his cool mask. “I _am_ the God of Lies, do you expect _truth_ from me?”

And then something clicked for Natasha, something she should have realised the other night, but didn’t.

“That night after your father’s funeral, when I brought up what I said in Hel, you stopped me. Why? What did you think I was going to say?”

He didn’t answer her, but the tiniest fall in his expression and the flicker of hurt in his eyes told her all she needed to know.

“You thought I was going to take it back didn’t you?”

He said nothing, still as a statue. Natasha wasn’t even sure if he was breathing.

“That’s why you wanted just one more night. You thought it would be the last. You thought I was going to tell you that I was wrong, that I’d changed my mind – that I didn’t love you.”

The only movement was his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.

Natasha shook her head, not sure whether to laugh at him or slap him. She left him stewing in the silence for a moment, his punishment for doubting her.

“I wanted to tell you that I meant every word.” She raised her head to meet his eyes, emerald and sapphire clashing, their gaze intense as she willed him to believe her.

“I love you.”

He turned his head, breaking the eye contact. “You can’t.” His voice was barely a whisper, but she caught it, and it pained her to know that after all this time, after all he’d done, he still didn’t believe himself worthy.

The silence stretched on for a moment, until she moved towards him, hand outstretched to grasp his sleeve. Her voice caught on his name. “Loki…”

But he moved away from her touch. “I hear the baby crying.” He deflected, moving from the room and leaving Natasha to follow.

He entered her room just down the hall, and Katarina was indeed crying. She moved past Loki to pick up the child, and she settled as she rocked her in her arms.

“She needs changing. Here, hold her for a sec.” She held out Katarina for him to take. Loki reached out for the child, but then he froze, his arms dropping dejectedly to his sides.

“I…I can’t.”

Natasha frowned. “What do you mean? You’ve held her before.”

Loki moved past her, grabbing a blanket from the crib and carefully wrapping Katarina before taking her into his arms. Natasha stared, surprised that she hadn’t noticed that before.

“You’re scared to touch her.”

Loki met her gaze for a moment, but then dropped it almost immediately. “I do not fear my own child.” He murmured. “It is she who should fear me.”

She remained silent, waiting.

Loki held the child so carefully, so cautious not to touch her skin.

He breathed a world-weary sigh.

“The blood that runs through my veins is…tainted. I am a Jotunn, a monster. Feared. Hated.” His finger hovered over Katarina’s cheek, as if to stroke it, but never touched. Sadness stabbed through Natasha like a blade.

“And now, it’s possible that I have passed this curse on to her, that she will be just as monstrous.”

“Loki, stop.” She shook her head, sickened by his self-loathing. “Katarina’s not a monster. You’re not a monster. What you look like doesn’t make you who you are. You’re still Loki. You’re still the man I love.”

His face contorted, a snarl gripping his features. “What do you know of monsters? You mortals who were so conceited as to think you were the only sentient species in the universe!” His voice rose, and Katarina started to cry again.

“There are monsters among men. Trust me.” She had seen far too many of those.

Loki laughed. “Pitiful.” He spat, his face cruel. “A pitiful excuse. There are no monsters like me.”

Katarina screamed, arms flailing.

Natasha raised her chin, defiant, blue eyes flashing dangerously. “Show me then.”

Loki froze, caught between surprise and scorn, his eyes wide and wild though a deranged smile still stained his lips.

Her heart beat impossibly loud in her chest.

“Fine. Just remember though, you asked for it.” He warned her, his expression taking on a dangerous edge as he stepped back, away from her, and closed his eyes.

His flawless, alabaster skin started to darken. She noticed it in his hands first, spreading over his wrists like a spider’s web. It swept up his arm like a wave or a rolling fog, creeping over his chest and up his neck like clawed fingers. Deep, royal blue markings swirled across his skin, creating beautifully complex patterns, the likes of which she had never seen. They arced over his chest and abdomen, curling up his neck and over his face. The markings scored his lips and forehead, eerie and yet oddly beautiful.

After a moment, he opened his eyes. His irises were no longer a sparking emerald, but a dark onyx, the sclera a deep, blood red. It was not the first time she had seen these eyes but it shocked her all the same. She sucked in a sharp breath, which Loki mistook for disgust or fear and snarled.

“Now do you see? Do you still want me now, _Natasha_? Now that you see what I am, do you still want me to hold your child? She has looked upon my face and she has _feared for her life_!”

She paused. “Has she?”

Loki looked down, shocked. Katarina had stopped crying.

Katarina gurgled in her father’s arms, tear tracks still staining her cheeks but her big emerald eyes stared up in curiosity. She wriggled, limbs flailing about as her arms stretched out towards her father’s cobalt blue face, tiny fists grabbing at nothing.

Slowly, so slowly, Loki let Katarina’s little fingers curl around his pinky.

Cautiously, Natasha moved forward while Loki stared down at where pink and blue met. She stretched up onto her toes, brushing back the dark hair that had fallen into his face. He flinched away from her touch, but she persevered, cupping her hand along his cheek.

“You’re not a monster. You can’t hurt us, Loki. You are our family. You are not feared, you are not hated. You are loved. I love you Loki.” His gaze searched hers, desperate. She blinked at the wetness gathering in her eyes, but didn’t look away. “I wanted to tell you this before the battle, but I was afraid, and my pride got in the way. And then you died, and it was the worst moment of my life. But I realised that I wasn’t afraid to tell you anymore.”

His eyes glazed over with unshed tears, but her tears fell for the both of them.

“I love you.” Her confession was a whisper on his cheek. “I love you, Loki. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“I…I don’t…You…” He stuttered, fear still haunting his expression; he looked on the edge of breaking. She hushed him by pressing her lips to his, a dance of desperation and passion. She felt a drop of wetness that was not hers fall onto her cheek.

She felt his fingers ghost over her jaw, his touch barely a breath of air on her skin. His hand tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, and she kept her palms on either side of his face, kissing him hard so that their tears mingled on their cheeks. Katarina gurgled happily beneath them.

Natasha pulled away then, giving him a stern look. “Just so we’re clear, you tell anyone what I just said and I _will_ kill you, father of my child or not.” The Black Widow told him. A grin spread across his face, no malice or subterfuge, only joy, and Natasha was swept up in it.

Loki still wasn’t sure if he believed her, he couldn’t understand how she could possibly love someone like him. But Loki found that he simply didn’t care. Even if she only loved him in this moment, just for now, then it would be enough. It was more of a blessing then he ever deserved, and he was grateful for it.

Natasha changed Katarina, and then the three of them slept, Loki’s fingers playing softly in her hair as they curled around the sleeping babe between them. Katarina slept through the night, comforted in her parents’ embrace, knowing that they loved her, and knowing, the way a child knows these things, that they loved each other, absolutely, inexplicably, infinitely.

 


End file.
